The 92nd Annual Hunger Games
by Zulera301
Summary: The Career Tributes are always known for their passion and eagerness to volunteer for the Hunger Games, training for their entire lives seeking after the fame and glory that comes with winning these deadly contests. Marcus and Amy are familiar with these trends, although instead of volunteering for the usual slew of reasons, the two of them wish to send a very particular message...
1. Chapter 1: The Four Victors

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **__Welcome one, welcome all, to The 92nd Annual Hunger Games! This is the 2nd volume of my "Fire Without a Spark" series. The series focuses on what Panem was like if Katniss had never volunteered for Prim, and thus the 2nd rebellion had never happened._ However, Katniss and co. still exist and have done a few things of their own, as the story will reveal. This fic obviously contains a spoiler about the previous one (AKA who the victor of the previous games was), but other than that, you don't need to read that one to understand what is going on in this one. This first chapter is kind of a prologue of sorts, and so if you want to skip ahead and read the story without worrying about "Fire Without a Spark" continuity, feel free to skip to chapter 2. Otherwise... Enjoy.  
__Please also note that the story "ends" with chapter 40, while chapters 41, 42, 43, 44, and 45 (and/or any subsequent chapters) comprise an epilogue._

__(Now complete, with 1 completed sequel and another one in the works. Reviews, Feedback, Compliments, or [Constructive] Criticism are both welcomed and encouraged, _especially any thoughts about the characters, which is probably what interests me the most.)_

**PART I: THE TRIBUTES**

**CHAPTER 1: The Four Victors  
**

The victor village in District 12 was a fairly quiet place, given that it only had four inhabitants, since the first victor from District 12 had disappeared years ago. No one knew the fate of the mysterious Laurel Fox, other than that shortly after the 2nd Quarter Quell, she had vanished without a trace, but there was nowhere to go in District 12 except across the fence, and since it had been years and she had been an older woman, chances were she was dead.

Up until recently, District 12's track record in the Hunger Games was quite pitiful at best, but if there was one thing that they had shown surprising proficiency at, it was winning those Quarter Quells—the Hunger Games that occurred every 25 years that always had a special rule change.

The 1st Quarter Quell's victor had been the late Laurel Fox, who even the Capitol considered dead even if the cause of her death was unknown. The 2nd Quarter Quell had produced District 12's 2nd victor, Haymitch Abernathy. It was another 25 years before District 12 would win the 'games again, with the 3rd Quarter Quell—the 75th Hunger Games, producing Katniss Everdeen as a victor among tributes aged between 17 and 25.

It was shortly after this that the district began gaining momentum in its victor production. The 4th victor, a young man named Vigo Zakatau, won the 84th Hunger Games only 9 years later. He had helped a tribute become a victor only 7 years later, with tiny little Aveline Togisala as Panem's most recent Hunger Games Victor.

The four of them were particularly close. It was definitely a victor thing.

Regretfully, like many victors before her, even the now 16-year-old Aveline had turned to drinking, although it was made better by the fact that it was often accompanied by cards and gambling. In this case, it was to help ease Ava into the notion that she would be travelling with two new tributes to the Capitol this year to serve as District 12's mentor for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games. The reaping was not for another few hours, however, and thus the minds of the victors were all elsewhere.

"Read 'em and weep." Haymitch smirked, slapping his cards on the table. Ava groaned, Vigo shook his head, and Katniss slammed a knife into the table, swearing loudly. It was almost amusingly ironic that all four of these individuals had a knife on their person at almost any given time, but all in all it was just another way of coping with what had happened to each of them in the past.  
Vigo shuffled the cards again and they were soon deep into another game. He was a betting man, as the Capitol Escort Junichi Thatch knew, even if he did not know when to fold. Luckily, only Katniss and Aveline had anyone else they were supporting (their mothers, in both cases)

"Vigo," Ava looked up at the man as she scooped up a pile of coins that were her winnings, "you do know that you could come with me if you wanted to try and earn your money back from Jun, right?"

Vigo shook his head. "I'd just lose again and Katniss here would make fun of me."  
"Hey," the older woman spoke up, "you bring that upon yourself."

"Bah, I'm not as awful at this as you make me out to be. Let's just keep playing. We've got time before the reapings actually start."

And thus they continued. Sooner or later, however, it was time for them to converge on the square, since viewing (or attendance, in the case of those between the ages of 12 and 18) of the reapings was strictly mandatory for everyone in every district.

"Welp," Vigo quipped, setting down his cards, "I guess it's time."

"May the odds make it true that when you're mortally wounded in an excruciatingly painful way, your body goes into shock and you don't feel anything when you die." Ava led the chant, where the four of them raised their flasks and took a shot. The statement was fairly black, but it was something of a mantra among the victors of most districts.

Vigo followed Ava to the square, with Katniss in tow. Not wanting to be left behind, Haymitch staggered to his feet and followed, taking another shot from his hip flask in the meantime. They parted ways when Ava stepped up to the stage, where she would be serving as this year's mentor for District 12, and the others shuffled into the ineligible crowds to watch the show, and perhaps give a respectful salute to the young man and woman who were probably going to die. Ava sat down, her feet just barely touching the floor—she was a tiny little thing, even at 16 years of age.

Shortly after the usual propaganda film concluded, a pale woman with dark, spiky blue hair and vibrant red eyes strode onto the stage, her frilly knee-length skirts bouncing with each step. She actually brought a small smile to Vigo and Ava's faces, for they knew that this woman was much different than most of the others from the Capitol. This was Junichi Thatch; escort for the District 12 tributes. She dressed vividly, although never too garishly, and as long as she had not changed in the 6 months since Ava had last met her, she was pretty sure this woman was still rather humble and down-to-earth—a surprisingly relatable woman.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" she beamed, going into a miniature speech that Ava and Vigo were sure was mandatory for her to give, before she cut right to the point. "And now it is time to choose our tributes for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games… and as is the custom—ladies first,"

She stepped over to one of the large glass spheres that held girl's names, running her hand through it a bit to mix it up—otherwise the kids whose names were at the bottom would remain there, which meant the first ones to register that year would have an edge against their later-registering brethren. She did this for a few seconds, perhaps also to build suspense in the Capitol, although a moment later she produced a slip of paper between her fingers. Gently unfolding it, she read aloud:

"_Monica Savage!"_

As usual, there was a hushed silence as a dark-skinned, black-haired girl stepped out from the ranks of young ladies and stepped towards the stage, her hands in her pockets. For a moment, her dark brown eyes met Ava's, where the smaller girl gave her a wordless expression of sympathy.

"And now for the boys…" Junichi stepped over to the bowl with the boys' names, and dipped her hand into it. She repeated the same motions as she had for the girls before fishing out a name from the edge of the bowl. She opened it up and read it aloud.

"_Rafael West!"_

A tan-skinned boy with messy brown hair stepped up to the stage, where he joined Monica, both of them remaining wordless. There was a moment of silence before Junichi continued, giving a huge smile towards the crowds which Ava was fully convinced was simply procedural rather than the woman's actual emotions on the subject.

"Ladies and Gentlemen..." Junichi cleared her throat for a moment, "your tributes from District 12 for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games: Monica Savage and Rafael West!"

Everyone, instead of clapping, raised three fingers to their lips before raising them. Even Junichi responded with this gesture. It was still not so much a symbol of any type of rebellion as much as a gesture of respect for those that would not likely return. It didn't take a genius to realize that District 12 was not exactly known for its vast pool of victors, though their performance ever since the 3rd Quarter Quell had showed a very significant rising trend given that their 4th and 5th victors took much less than half the time to emerge than the 2nd and 3rd victors had.

Ava did not join her tributes proper yet, as this was the time they got to say their goodbyes. Instead, she was escorted to the train, bidding Katniss and Haymitch a fond farewell for a few weeks while she was there. Vigo, while he would not be mentoring, had elected to tag along. The Capitol did like their victors, after all, and Vigo was still fairly popular among them.

Ava did manage to meet her mother Naisha one more time before departing. It was much different from the departure last year, where her and her brother had been chosen as tributes for the 91st Annual Hunger Games. Needless to say, their mother was grieved in knowing that she would inevitably lose one child, and possibly lose both of them. Aveline managed to give her the lesser of the two evils, and return home a victor. However, the death of Ava's older brother Wesley had not been something the two of them had easily gotten over, and they both missed the boy—Ava missed her brother and Naisha missed her son. This time was different though.

"I'm coming back for sure this time," Ava promised her mother, "I may not return with a victor in tow… but I promise you now… I'm coming back alive and in one piece."  
Naisha did not respond with any actual words, but simply hugged her little daughter, who was still hardly an inch taller than 4'9" and 90 pounds, even at the strapping age of 16.

As Ava boarded the train, it reminded her of the same incident a year ago when she had boarded it with her brother, where it was the last time the poor boy got to see his home. On the other hand, Ava was safe just as she had promised—this marked her first year as a Hunger Games mentor.


	2. Chapter 2: Unlike Minds

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _And here is where we make the transition from District 12 over to District 2, which is where Marcus and Amy hail from. We get to see a bit of them and the strange way they get along,, as well as peek a little bit into the mind of the career tributes, and what it's like for the victors of the most successful district in Panem. It's not all sunshine and daisies, if Clove is anything to go by-since she appears in this chapter._

**CHAPTER 2: Unlike Minds**

One of the first things that Ava noticed about her first set of tributes was that they were enthusiastic about it, or at least were collected enough not to be nervous. Ava had mixed feelings about this because she knew the horrors of the games and did not want one of her tributes to wind up even more shattered than she had. No child that ever entered the 'games emerged from the arena alive the way they ever were before the games. Ava learned this truth last year, and still she had nightmares or other negative reactions from remembering the 91st Annual Hunger Games.

"So…" Monica spoke up, "let's see some recaps of the reaping—or at least the career districts. We gotta find out what we're up against so we can destroy them."

Ava did not seem terribly comfortable with the girl's choice of words, but with a nod, she flipped on the recaps of the recent reapings, starting with District 1. The 'reapings' in District 1 and 2 were much different than the ones for the remaining districts. Since there were so many kids who wanted to volunteer, they had organized these annual events to basically be a race/fight to the stage. Killing was not strictly prohibited, but few ever wasted time trying to kill their fellows, because that would be wasting precious time they could be using to brawl their way to the stage.

This year's 'winners' from District 1 were a couple of 17-year-olds named Luster Marcelo and Charm DeMetz. The District 12 pair shook their heads.

"So District 1 not only has weird names," Rafael quipped, "but they're also overly enthusiastic to die?"  
"Given their record," Aveline reminded the boy, "they're doing something right. 13 victors in 91 years is not too shabby of a record."  
"Well," Monica noted aloud, "it explains why there are mostly only 17 and 18-year-old tributes from District 1 and District 2. How nice would it be to not have to even go?"  
"Except I've been there," Ava reminded them, "it's a social pressure kind of thing. Either you train to volunteer, or live as an outcast that gets scorned for life…"  
"Speaking of which," Rafael spoke up again, worried much less about that notion, and more about being able to destroy career tributes, "let's see District 2."  
They were a bit more surprising—at least in one case. The boy, a Marcus Romero, was a massive kid standing about 6'6" and probably 200 pounds at least; definitely 18. The girl, however, was almost a hilarious contrast that Ava even found rather amusing. This Amy Zavala was a tiny little 14-year-old that couldn't have been more than about 4'10" and probably only about 95 pounds. Ava cracked a smirk at this contrast, for it reminded her of her own games.

"What are you smiling at," Monica tilted her head as she saw Ava's odd smile. "District 2 sent a midget this year. What's so funny about that?"  
"District 2 is not as bad as everyone thinks," Ava expressed, "but I digress. I thought it was funny, because for one thing, I'm 4'9" and an oddly symbolic 91 pounds. Secondly, last year, the girl from District 2 was this 6'5", 182-pound behemoth that also became my best friend. So… as much as I'm obviously going to support my own district here, I will not take kindly to smacktalking a place you've never fully seen."  
"There's no need to get defensive over it, kiddo," Monica began before Ava seized her arm.

"And there will be none of this dismissive 'kiddo' shit either," she warned, "I'm not trying to say that you should respect and revere me just because I'm some kid who got too big for her britches or anything…"  
She didn't get to finish before Junichi stepped in. those that knew her were well-aware that she was not just the average Capitol airhead. In fact, it was rumored that she used the tribute training center between Hunger Games, although only Vigo Zakatau or Ava Togisala would know, and both of them had sworn not to tell.

"Listen to your mentor, children," the escort warned, "don't start fighting her just because she's younger than you. This child knows what the games entail, much more than you or I could begin to comprehend. We're not in this thing to turn you into our enemies… she's genuinely trying to help you."

"Sorry," both of the tributes apologized, lowering their heads.

"We're all in this together," Junichi reassured them, "Even I am." With this, Junichi disappeared again.

"you probably understand then…" Rafael muttered, "being a tribute in the games."  
"I more than understand," Ava humbly agreed, "I had to ride this train with my brother as my district partner… obviously he's gone now if I'm here in front of you."  
That seemed to have been enough for Monica and Rafael to quiet down and listen, and thus Ava resumed the reaping footage.

There had been quite a stir that year in District 2 because of that little 14-year-old, however. It was difficult to cheat in a 'contest' where it was simply a race to the stage to meet Delun Frost, the cheerful, enthusiastic escort for District 2.

Even in a district where everyone volunteered, the ladies still went first, and so when tiny little Amy Zavala finally reached the stage, it brought surprise to even Delun, the man's bouncy green curls flying as he jumped on his toes with excitement.

The boy was much less surprising, given how enormous he was, but he was still greeted with equal enthusiasm. After Delun announced their names though, Marcus surprised them by grabbing Amy and lifting the tiny girl over his head. Laughter also ensued.

"Hey! Put me down you moron!" Amy barked, although the amused laughter of her fellows did little to crush her spirits. She was still on an adrenaline rush from being chosen as tribute for the 'games anyways. She had a point to prove, and this was the first step.

Soon, Delun, Amy, and Marcus were all on the train flying towards the Capitol. Marcus and Delun had struck up a pleasant conversation about Capitol lifestyle or something similar, while Amy remained stoic and simply glared forward, drumming her fingers on the table. Incidentally, Delun spoke up first.

"There's no reason to be glum!" he smiled, spreading his arms, "you were chosen because you were District 2's finest. You should be proud!"  
"I am proud," Amy shrugged calmly, "I'm also just thinking about something."

"What are you thinking about?" Marcus tilted his head, "wish you had waited 4 years before volunteering like that or something?"  
"Ha, don't kid yourself," Amy shook her head, "I volunteered to prove a point."  
"What point was that," Marcus ruffled Amy's hair, "that two really tiny girls could win twice in a row?"

"If I decide to do that," Amy quipped, "I'll make sure you're my partner-in-crime. If you want an alliance though, we need to lay down some ground rules."

"No promises," Marcus chuckled, "But I'll listen."  
"No manhandling me." Amy demanded, "I'm a girl, not a ragdoll."

"I won't promise anything, but I'll keep that in mind." Marcus shook his head, smirking. "Hey, let's go find Clove and see if she'll tell us a few things."

"It makes me wonder why she still volunteers," Amy mused aloud, "There have been two victors since her… I wonder what's been holding them back…"  
"Maybe Clove wanted to volunteer to mentor the best tributes," Marcus suggested.

"Fine," Amy laughed, "I'll drink to that." While Amy's mindset was different from Marcus's, she was willing to put a few of her own differences aside so that they could get along. One of the secrets to District 2's success, after all, was their ability to ally with each other to dominate the arenas. Even when they did not win (such as last year), they usually still did very well and were some of the last tributes standing. This seemed to be enough of an ego-stroking for them to continue this tradition.

Either way, they went to go find Clove, and found her one car over, shooting something up her arm.

"What's that," Amy instantly asked, causing the older woman to look up.

"Something of mine," Clove retorted, "Victor drug. That's all you need to know."  
Amy was about to ask if there was a reason for it, but she figured that of course there would be.

"Here," she handed them a couple of needles, "Take these."  
"I'll pass, thank you." Amy shook her head, while Marcus looked at the syringes in his hands.

"They're not for you," she pointed out, "they're if you see me start losing it. I don't need to go into details, but I'll say this much—you will know when you need to use them."  
"So basically our own mentor's too unstable to even control herself anymore?" Amy quipped,

"Watch it," Clove warned, "One does not talk shit about Clove Kazera and get away with it. If you're trying to provoke me, I'll ensure that you regret it."

"And if you're trying to do the same to us," Marcus replied, "you're in for a treat."

Clove's eyes narrowed before she shook her head. "Good to see I've got tributes with gall." She nodded, an approving sneer encroaching her face, "I like a pair of tributes who'll stand up for themselves… you two will do just fine…"


	3. Chapter 3: A Message From Amy

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_ In this chapter we do get a little shout-out to Chel Colorado from the last story, although I feel like I explain well enough who she was that those who have not read the last one should still understand who she was. Otherwise... more Clove, and more about what Marcus and Amy hope to get from their volunteering for the games. Also... a sneak preview of a few of the other tributes. Enjoy!_

**CHAPTER 3: A Message From Amy**

"So that's it?" Amy raised an eyebrow after a moment of silence, "is there nothing else you have to say to us now or something?"

"Most of the stuff you'll need to know you already learned in the academies," Clove retorted, "if you want me to tell you what I personally think of you two, you should be like Ava and Chel."  
"Hey, as cool as she was," Marcus objected, "I don't want to be Chel if that means I die."

"Not that part of Chel," Clove shook her head, "the Chel Colorado that went down in history. Be strong; be good at what you do. More than that though… become a legend. Become a name that will live on through history, whether you live or die. Look at little Aveline from last year. The kid scored a 5, and she was tinier than you were, Amy. To top it off, she was from the shittiest place in Panem, and yet she emerged from the games as the victor."  
"Chel definitely helped her," Marcus insisted. Clove simply nodded, to Marcus' surprise. He had kind of expected an argument from the mentor woman.

"And Aveline helped Chel," she took a shot from a flask on the table, "even if you turn on your allies, that's no reason not to stay by their side in the meantime. Even I know that and I'm an ass."

"How many allies did you have?" Amy looked up curiously.

"I had three: the District 1 pair and my partner Cato." Clove clarified, "we dominated the field, destroying everyone in our path until it was just me and Cato. So, we turned on each other and obviously I won. It was nothing personal; just business."

Marcus and Amy glanced at each other and did not say anything. Clove noticed and she simply smirked again, taking another drink.

"but you two shouldn't worry about having to kill each other till 22 other kids are dead and gone," she continued, "not only because I think you two have Chaco and Chel's fighting spirit from last year, but also because it's about damn time District 2 had another victor."

"Getting sick of it already?" Marcus quipped, "you still haven't even been here as long as some of those old District 12 mentors."

"That's a trend that's swiftly dying out," Amy pointed out, "There were 9 years between Katniss Everdeen and Vigo Zakatau, and then only 7 between Vigo Zakatau and Aveline Togisala."

"Well look who's the smart one," Marcus ruffled Amy's hair again. Clearly he was a roughhouser, and Clove seemed to be making this obvious observation all the same.

"Well, those kinds of kids can win, you know," Clove warned, "Look at me. I'm certainly no Chel Colorado. For one, she was a much kinder person than I am, and secondly, she was way taller. Also, she's got a District Hero statue of her in front of the justice building for a reason."

"So what was so great about Chel Colorado if she didn't even win?" Amy tilted her head curiously. "Not to be the little bitch here… but aren't the best tributes the ones that survive?"

"Most of 'em are," Clove nodded, "but every now and again you get a couple that stand out. For example, literally 30 years before my games there was this tiny little thing from District 12 that turned out to be one of the most ruthless killers in Hunger Games history. People remember Kyla Togisala not because of Ava the victor, but because the girl made herself stand out. Sometimes it's not about winning the games. Sometimes it's about sending a message."

"What kind of message did Chel send?" Amy asked, sounding more interested suddenly. Clove smirked, knowing she had hooked her female tribute this year.

"Chel sent a message that you can do things your own way and still become popular." Clove explained, "Even with her free-spirited attitude, the Capitol still loved her. Are you suddenly interested?"  
"Aye," Amy nodded, "I am. I'm only 14, anyways. I didn't volunteer for fame and glory—I volunteered to send Panem a message."

"Well, you're no Ikki Ortolani," Clove retorted. "She was only 12 when she won."  
"I know," Amy replied, "I do not intend to be Ikki Ortolani. I intend to be Amy Zavala."  
"And what of you, Marcus," Clove asked the massive boy, "What do you want from all this?"

"I'm not going to lie; I'm in it for the fame and the glory," the larger boy admitted, "I regret nothing."

"There's nothing to regret," Clove agreed, "There's no right or wrong answer here. You volunteer for whatever reason you damn well want to… Anyways, make yourselves at home as well as you can. There's no point in letting the Capitol's benevolence go to waste. I'm gonna get me another drink, so I'll be back." Clove got up and left the room, leaving the two very differently-sized tributes alone. Amy could hear Delun in a nearby compartment, and wondered what that man was up to. For the moment; she simply glanced up at Marcus.

"So would it hurt your pride to ally with a kid 4 years your junior and half your size?" she raised an eyebrow, "Or are we keeping this District 2 thing going?"  
"I'm teaming up with whoever's strong," Marcus admitted, "if we get a District 3 pair like the ones last year, I'd even recruit them."

"So in fine, you're skirting my question," Amy punched his arm playfully.

"And here I thought you were going to cite Ava on me," Marcus laughed, "kid, if you're strong enough to kick every other girl's ass on the way to the stage, chances are you've got what it takes to join me."

"Wonderful," Amy smirked, "I'd hate to have to kill my own district partner in the opening minutes, eh?"  
"Whoa now, kiddo," Marcus laughed, "let's save the fighting for the training room. We've got a whole week of that before the 'games, you know."

"What?" Amy quipped, "You mean I can't just turn and kill you in the opening minutes?"  
"The funny thing is, is I can't tell if you're serious or not!" Marcus laughed.

"Nah… Clove's right." Amy concurred, "it's about damn time that District 2 had another victor, and so if I can't win it, you better win it."  
Same goes for you, kiddo," Marcus grinned. "Be a tiny little badass like Aveline was—only better."  
"Don't worry," Amy smirked, "I plan to be. Speaking of which—let's watch the reaping footage again. I want to size up our competition."  
footage of anything Hunger Games was always readily available to anyone in the districts or the Capitol, and the trains were no exceptions. They replayed the footage of this year's reapings, watching themselves fight their way to the front. The kids from Districts 3 and 4 looked like promising potential career material, and of course there was Luster and Charm from District 1 that would almost certainly be joining the career team this year. District 5 produced another elusive-looking and mysterious pair, but that was the general vibe of Panem's most mysterious district anyways. Districts 6, 7, and 8 all produced the typical lot—groups of urban kids with a fairly sullen expressions and nimble builds, for Districts 6 and 8, and slightly stockier kids from District 7.

District 11 produced another pair of rough-looking physically-oriented tributes, with both the boy and the girl appearing to show all the signs of many long days and hours of hard work. Dante Daniels and Cherry Valdez both looked like fighters, which was another recurring trend from District 11 lately. They had a pretty impressive 8 victors thus far, which put them tied with some of the top victor-producing districts, only truly beaten out by Districts 1 and 2.

Aveline Togisala's first batch of tributes looked promising too, and fairly confident. Amy was not one to overlook this fact.

"They're growing more confident," she warned, "we can't take District 12 so lightly anymore. First Katniss, then Vigo, and then Aveline…"

"I thought this was the girl who was going to win and send a message," Marcus joked.

"I will," Amy insisted, "not against District 12; not against District 11, or District 2, or any particular place. This is simply a message to all of Panem—that there is more to the Hunger Games than meets the eye. There's more than just the death; and more than just the glory."

"I'm listening," Marcus was curious about this quaint little girl. For one, it was rare that anyone under 16 or 17 ever made it to the stage in District 2, and for another, he was curious about what kind of message she wanted to send to Panem.

"Look at the last few victors," she lowered her voice, "From our district I mean. Kaede and Katsuo, I think their names were. They're absolute wrecks. Heck, even Clove's not all there, but she's the best we've got other than a couple of older mentors that have done their time."  
"So what are you getting at," Marcus listened with further curiosity.

"I want to produce a victor who doesn't suffer like that," Amy insisted, "which means that not only do I intend to win… but I intend to produce another victor the very next year."


	4. Chapter 4: Day and Night

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_While I imagine that District 2 is competitive, I also imagine that many of them are also good friends. Marcus and Amy are, at least, despite varying so greatly in size and age. I think his pride as an 18-year-old is not hurt by being accompanied by a 14-year-old because of how the "reapings" in District 2 take place. Amy did manage to beat the other girls, so that means she's got some considerable skill as well. Marcus' skill is practically written all over his 6'6" 200-lb frame._

**CHAPTER 4: Day and Night**

Marcus seemed intrigued by Amy's boldness. He was unfazed by her assertion that she was going to win, for nearly all careers were like that, even if it meant killing the boy or girl that was right beside them at one point of the games or another.

"You have a bold ambition," Marcus chuckled, "winning back-to-back has only ever happened twice in District 2, and once in District 1. "Do you think you've got what it takes?"

"If I didn't think I had what it takes, I would have let some other girl beat me to the stage," Amy retorted. Tell me, Marcus. Do you remember Aveline Togisala's pre-games interview?"

"Not really, no." Marcus shrugged. This meant Amy would have to explain it, but on the other hand, she at least approved of the massive boy's honesty.

"The kid told all of Panem that she was going to be the one to sit on the victor's throne. Well, look at the history. 2 weeks later, there she was, crowned by Snow himself."

"I think most kids promise or claim that they'll win." Marcus reminded her, "but I suppose you're here to ensure your promise is different?"  
"Oh, I won't promise to win," Amy indicated, "I just plan on sending a message. Clove was right about Chel too, y'know. If I don't win and then produce a victor the year after, I'll find something else."  
There was a moment of pause and silence, and Marcus smirked at his tiny little district partner. "You're quite an interesting little kid," he smirked, "I like you."  
"Glad to be of service," Amy chortled, "I think you and I will get along despite our differences, be it in physical size or other things. Welcome to the 92nd Annual Hunger Games—and may the odds make it true that when you're mortally wounded in an excruciatingly painful way, your body goes into shock so that you don't feel anything when you die."

Marcus chuckled, knowing that this was a phrase that dated back about 50 years. It had been popularized by the victor of the 44th Annual Hunger Games, a District 11 woman named Sagittaria. The following year, it quickly spread through District 11, and made its way into the cultures of District 6, District 12, and oddly enough, District 2. It did not take long for the slogan to swiftly infiltrate the other districts afterwards. It was an extremely popular meme among the victors of the various districts, and thus it had solidified itself within Hunger Games culture.

"So here's a question for you," Marcus spoke up a moment after the laughing had subsided, "did you bring a tribute token?"

"I brought the severed finger of the girl I fought on the way to the stage." Amy replied with a completely straight face. Marcus tilted his head, trying to remember anything like that. He had the epiphany that Amy was lying a moment later and laughed.

"Fine, I'll answer first if that's what you're getting at," he quipped, "it ain't much, but I'm pretty proud of it." He reached into his pocket and pulled a small stone carving depicting the Capitol Seal out and set it on the table. Amy actually looked at it with interest.

"It's nice," she complimented, "did you do it?"  
"Yup," Marcus nodded, "I was working to be a proper stonemason before this."  
"Well, you were definitely on the right track," she nodded approvingly, "Me, my token is just these earrings," she used both her hands to point to a pair of large golden hoops in her ears."

"They might confiscate those," Marcus joked, "you could use them as weapons."

Amy laughed, and without even opening her mouth, she unfastened her left earring and poked Marcus' hand with it. "A few thousand more stabs like that and you'd be dead, boy…" she warned, the facetiousness in her voice overly apparent, "Aye, I don't think they'll get after me for it."  
She fastened her earring again and Marcus pocketed his rock. "I just need to make sure not to drop this like that kid with the wooden ball did. I felt bad for the poor sods next to her—they were covered with whatever was left of her."

Amy shook her head, chuckling. "Do you pull this many jokes everywhere you go?"

"Chel Colorado had the right idea in more ways than one," Marcus insisted, "just as you said. I, for one, admired her sense of humor."  
"So you're just copying Chel then?"  
"Pfft, as if; I make jokes because I can, and no one's going to stop me. Besides… the Hunger Games could always use a few more laughs."  
Incidentally, Amy was not skeptical about Marcus' positive attitude at all. She was positive that the boy was going to score very high in training—maybe even perfectly. He very well could win this thing, and so Amy would have to remember that he was a threat.

After a couple more moments Marcus pulled out some cards, offering a game to Amy, who accepted. The two of them played for several minutes before Delun showed up again.

"We're only a couple hours from the Capitol!" he beamed, "you two should clean up and get ready!"  
It was never a very trying task for Capitol favorites like '1 and '2 to wash up (in contrast to the outer districts such as '11 and '12). In these cases, it was more of them just straightening up properly after the brawling they had done to fight their way to the stage.

Marcus and Amy parted ways down one of the hallways, into private rooms where they cleaned up. Amy was a bit surprised at the color of the liquid that shot out from the Capitol showers, but since the purple substance was not causing any harm to her skin, Amy concluded that it was just some special chemical or something and stopped worrying about it.

She and Marcus emerged smelling sweeter and looking fresher, and thus would appeal more to the Capitol when they first made their way from the train station to the Tribute Tower. It was this meeting, rather than the Chariot Parade, which marked the first impression tributes gave to the Capitol. On the other hand, District 2 was almost always fairly popular with the Capitol crowds, and so both Marcus and Amy figured they would be no exception.

They ate a quick lunch as the mountains surrounding the Capitol came into view. Within a few weeks, 23 of the children en route to this place would never see their homes again. Even for tributes from mountainous landscapes with large, Capitol-centric buildings in many places, there was nothing even in District 2 that could compare to the might and glory that was the shimmering Capitol city that they were swiftly approaching. Surely there were at least a dozen boys and girls on similar trains that were nervous about this situation, knowing that they were probably heading to their deaths. Marcus was not one of these, however, and neither was Amy. In fact, the former was excited at the sight, and the latter was mildly amused.

"Aaaaaand here we go!" Delun announced as their train zipped through a tunnel right into the side of the mountain. There were several moments of suspenseful silence as the windows were suddenly cloaked with darkness, but a minute or two later, the train reemerged in the afternoon light of the Capitol, where the true grandiosity of the place finally struck the two tributes.

"Okay so I lied," Amy confessed, "this is actually pretty damn cool to see."

"Then it's a good thing we're tributes, or there'd be money switching hands right now," Marcus joked, "are you as ready for this as I am?"  
"I'm not sure anyone could match your enthusiasm, Marcus," Amy retorted.

"I'm hurt," Marcus fake-whimpered, "your words are almost as cutting as the knives you played with back home, kid."

"I'll be doing more than throwing cutting words, if that's what you mean," Amy smirked, "you've got the advantage there though—you know what I'm good at."  
"It's not that hard, really," Marcus reminded her, "there are two types of girls that come from our district…"  
"Oh here we go again," Amy prepared for something mildly sexist, but couldn't stop the smile from growing on her face, knowing that it was not likely to be genuine disdain that the massive boy next to her was about to utter.

"No, no, this isn't bad, I swear," Marcus laughed, "Just that girls from District 2 are usually either very large and burly like us guys; or they are really tiny and lightning-swift, like you or Clove. The big ones usually go for the axes, swords, and maces, and the small ones almost always use knives."  
"How do you know that?" Amy tilted her head.

"I've been in the academies for nearly a decade," Marcus reminded her, "I watch other kids just like anyone. In some cases, it helps me size up the competition; and in others it helps just to know what our district is fixing to produce over the next couple years."

"Well, I don't need to impress you," Amy quipped, "though I don't mind being on your good side for the early career alliance, aye?"

"True enough," Marcus agreed, "it's not me you've got to impress anyways—it's those people."  
He pointed out to large throngs of Capitol citizens who were already cheering and anxiously awaiting the debut of the tributes for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games.


	5. Chapter 5: The Stylists

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _And now our heroes have finally reached the Capitol, for better or for worse. I decided to put an interesting spin on the District 2 Stylist pair, and so they're a step or two away from the usual batch of Capitol citizens that get these jobs. Luckily for Marcus and Amy, they've got their escort Delun to help them sort these kinds of things out. Happy reading!_

**CHAPTER 5: The Stylists**

Marcus and Amy were greeted by throngs of cheering people who were excited to see their favorite tributes show their faces. They shouted and waved, and despite the vastly contrasting sizes of the District 2 pair, both of them were warmly received by the Capitol, and both of them grinned and waved as they made their way to the Tribute Tower, where 23 of the 24 children staying here would spend the final days of their life before being thrown into a death arena never to return.

Soon they were escorted to the 2nd floor of the Tribute Tower, which would be their new home for the next week before they were thrown into the arena. The victor would see it again for another couple of nights after the games, but other than that, 23 of them would see this place as their final home before they went to a large arena which would become their grave.

It was a thought that was not lost on tiny little Amy as they moved up the elevator and reached a lavish apartment that was fancier than even the finest that District 2 had to offer. Delun seemed happy to be back, and he turned to his tributes with a grin on his face.

"Welcome to the Capitol! Make yourselves at home and do feel free to enjoy anything you can find here!" He was obviously referring to anything on this floor, but Marcus and Amy did not seem like the type that would try to exploit a loophole to get out of these games—especially not after they had volunteered for them themselves.

"But don't go too far!" he added before disappearing down a hallway, "your stylists are just DYING to meet you, and they'll be up shortly!"

Both of them had an idea of what to expect this time around though. They might not have been here before, but they taught more in the academies than just combat and strength. Some of the tributes were also taught about appealing to the Capitol, both to further strengthen the relationship between Districts 1 &amp; 2 and the Capitol, but also on how to be an appealing tribute.

They knew that after the stylists showed up, that they'd be taken and given a brief clean-up (the richer districts did not take very long to do this) before they would get styled for tonight's chariot parade, where they would make their initial impression on the rest of Panem (though mostly just the Capitol). Tributes who did well here usually attracted the eyes of sponsors earlier, although there were other opportunities to be appealing.

But that was hardly what either of them were thinking about at the moment. Instead, Marcus scooped up Amy, much to the tinier girl's chagrin, and flopped back into the sofa keeping his partner locked in his grip. She struggled, kicking at him and shouting somewhat playful profanities at him, but her pride did feel and sustain a few injuries here.

"Put me down, you moron." She complained.

"You know," he quipped, "If we stick together, there's some tactical benefits I can see from someone your size."  
"Marcus, you are NOT using me as a projectile!" Amy snapped, practically reading the boy's mind, "what is it with you and handling me like this?"  
"You're tiny," he teased her, "I would have expected a much larger partner. I couldn't have done it someone like Chel."  
"You glorious ass," Amy rolled her eyes, sighing in defeat. "It's a good thing I like you, otherwise District 2's boy would take 24th place before training had even begun."

"I was actually just about to let you go," Marcus taunted, "now I'm not so sure."

Amy struggled to try and free herself from the massive boy's grip, also assessing that her tiny size could be a potential weakness this way. The two of them began to wrestle a bit, but the massive boy had size over the tiny girl and so he got her in a locked grip pretty easily.

"Marcus, cut it out!" she barked, "what if our stylists see us like th—"

No sooner had she said this when Delun came back into the room, accompanied by a pair of white-haired individuals. They were dressed differently, but in similar shades of silver and blue. Eye-masks that might be seen at a masquerade party graced their faces, and large feathers protruded from either side of them. their outfits had a few glittery embellishments, and the woman's right leg from hip to ankle showed through a long slit in her skirts.

"Well, well… someone's eager!" Delun chuckled, "on your feet, Marcus; Amy! You've got a big evening ahead of you tonight!"

Marcus and Amy detangled themselves and got to their feet without a problem. Delun gave them the names of the stylists, introducing the man as Zakuya and the woman as Misaha.

"They're on the quiet side, but they are the best of the best. Everyone wants to be a stylist for District 2!" he let them know. Of course, it was actually more of a tie between '1 and '2, but he did not need to tell them that.

"Sounds good to me," Amy shrugged, "Let's go."

She was surprised though, to find that when Delun mentioned that Zakuya and Misaha were on the quiet side, that they did not speak at all. After Amy had stripped down and gotten into the chemical-filled shower before her brief "clean-up" that she needed to undergo before getting dressed, Misaha had still not spoken a word to her. One studio over with Marcus, Zakuya had treated him the same way. The stylists did not seem to be rude with this, for they had friendly smiles on their faces; they simply did not speak. Amy actually asked them about it once they had finished a quick operation to remove the remnants of her body hair and smoothen her skin.

"Can you understand me?" she tilted her head. Misaha nodded with a smile.

"Is your tongue cut out or something then?" The stylist opened her mouth, revealing a dazzling set of white teeth and a perfectly intact tongue.

"So you just don't like speaking then," the tiny naked girl asked as she was led into the dressing room proper (wrapped in a towel of course), where she would get styled properly for the evening's parade. Unsurprisingly, Misaha giggled and nodded.

"Whatever," she shrugged, "Delun said you two knew what you were doing, so I'll trust him and thus trust you." It wasn't like she technically had a choice, but even if the stylists sent her and Marcus out naked, she would be able to appeal to the Capitol both during the interviews with Caesar at the end of this week, and in the arena when she was killing other tributes.

However, she was not dressed naked, and was instead clad in what appeared to be dark brick-red clothing that added effects to make it almost seem like armor. A pointed tiara reminding Amy almost of a sun-type pattern was placed on her head, and blood-red eyeshadow was applied to her eyelids, and some red stripes were painted on her cheeks.

"What am I supposed to b—" Amy began, but remembered that the stylists did not want to talk for some reason. The Capitol didn't make sense to Amy sometimes, which surprised her given that she was from their most loyal district. Still, the dress was rather cool-looking. The sleeves went to her wrists, but it was cut low in the back, where a large pair of red, feathered wings was added. Amy definitely thought this costume was extravagant. Her legs were exposed in the front, but there was a skirt covering them from behind, and she was given a pair of knee-high boots. Chariot costumes were not always practical, but they were definitely enough to be memorable.

As Amy skeptically stared at her tiny frame in the mirror, Misaha gave her the final touch—a hammer for one hand, and a large chisel for the other. She concluded that she was supposed to be some sort of stone goddess or something, which, given the design and color of this outfit, was actually pretty cool.

She was ushered out of the studio with a smile and some light clapping from a giddy Misaha, and found that an equally chipper Zakuya had just ushered Marcus out. His outfit was similar except instead of the skirt he had pants. He had the hammer and chisel though, as well as the wings and the tiara.

"Nice legs," he teased, eyeing Amy's legs for a moment.

"Shaddup," Amy elbowed him with a smirk. "Honestly I don't know how I put up with you sometimes."  
"And yet here we are about to ride a chariot together across the Capitol square," Marcus reminded her, "it'll be about as romantic as we can get."  
"The funny thing is," Amy laughed, as the stylists quietly escorted them to where their chariot was waiting, "is that I can't tell if you're serious or not!"

"Am I ever serious?" Marcus grinned shamelessly.

"You better damn well be once the 'games start." She reminded him.

"I will," Marcus gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Let me assure you."


	6. Chapter 6: The Training Center

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _The Chariot Parade concludes and we get our first glimpse of the training center, as well as a few more volunteer tributes. There's a bit of vague foreshadowing in this chapter as to what happens later on in the story. You can probably also get a decent idea of who will be strong and who also might be trouble later on. Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 6: The Training Center**

There were a few moments before the tribute parade actually started, where the tributes converged and boarded their chariots as the systematic ritual began to take form. The chariots lined up, but not before Marcus and Amy managed to size up their competition. Charm and Luster, the District 1 pair who had also volunteered, were arrayed in dazzlingly white and gold outfits that sparkled. They have the red-clad District 2 pair smiles and waves, as if indicating that they would totally be up for reinstating the old career pack. Behind them however, were another pair of charming voices.

"Nice wings," a boy's voice chirped, approaching Amy. "I didn't know District 2 sent tiny kids to volunteer for 'em though."  
"Watch it, bub," Amy warned, glaring fearlessly up at the boy, who, like his partner, was dressed in a dark form-fitting suit with various neon-colored lines running across in in shades of blue. This was definitely District 3's work.

"Nah, I wasn't trying to demean ya or anything," the boy explained as his partner walked up behind him, "I like the wings… and I just found it surprising that someone so small managed to beat up all the other kids to get to the stage." He had watched the reapings—he knew how District 2 worked in that regard.

"Well thanks then, I guess. Should I know you?" Amy tilted her head.

"Shaft Monroe, District 3," the boy verified his identity, "'n this is Asher Carrol." He pointed to a slightly taller girl who was clearly his partner.

"We can talk about it more in training if you're hoping for an alliance," Marcus spoke up, "Nice job on volunteering though." District 3 did not produce volunteers nearly as often as Districts 1 or 2 did, but both of these kids had volunteered this year, which did secretly impress Amy. Perhaps they would be valuable allies—or deadly enemies. Or then again maybe they would be pathetic like the kid last year from District 10 who had volunteered and had died within 38 seconds of the games starting.

"See ya then," Asher grinned, winking at Marcus, as the tributes began lining up. The others were too far away to see at the moment, and so Marcus and Amy figured they'd get to meet these kids proper once it was time for the training routines that started tomorrow and went for a week.

"District 3… thoughts?" Marcus smirked as he got on the left and let tiny little Amy step up on the right.

"Let 'em prove themselves then we can talk," Amy nodded at him, and after that their chariot lurched forward and they began to move.

The doors opened and out went District 1, greeted by cheering crowds and Capitol audiences. Moments later, the District 2 chariot followed and out they went, to cheering crowds. Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, both of whom were still alive and kicking, had some interesting commentary on them.

"Look at the contrast of those two!" the latter had commented, "clearly there's some district unity if those two can put aside their differences and harmonize so wonderfully!"

Their commentary soon shifted to the flashy District 3 pair, who were both fairly attractive as well. They had both volunteered and so there were pretty high hopes for them this year. The District 4 pair had been reaped properly, although still looked competitive.

District 2, however, was not finished. When Marcus and Amy raised their hammers and chisels into the air, the wings that were behind them, which had formerly been folded up, spread out magnificently, shimmering in the light of the moon and of the bright Capitol city. Perhaps there was a strategic reason for why the chariot parades were always held at night. It seemed more attention-grabbing that way.

Marcus and Amy nodded their approval, and the cheers for Panem's most loyal district rang louder through the air. They were definitely going to be a hit this year.

However, while they could not exactly turn around and see for themselves, Marcus and Amy would definitely have competition this year. The District 11 pair seemed rather popular, and their colorful costumes that represented a bountiful harvest did leave their arms bare as if to show off their physical strength. The District 12 pair were similar—those stylists, Amadeus and Celine, might have had a reputation of dressing the tributes to look the same as each other, but they both looked rather impressive in their black, shimmering outfits with silver streaks across various parts to represent metal ore. The mining district, while still Panem's poorest (only contested by District 11), was certainly no longer a laughingstock. Districts 11 and 12 had lately become some of the largest threats to the career packs of the years, and not just because of Aveline Togisala either.

Soon enough, the winged District 2 tributes and all of the others were forming a semicircle around President Snow's balcony, where the man would give a short little speech like he did every year.

"Welcome to the 92nd Annual Hunger Games." He said in his usual calm but commanding tone. "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

The fanfare began again and the chariots began rolling again. For a moment, Amy's eyes met with the ominous stare that the President sometimes gave people—although if there was enmity here, even cunning little Amy was clueless as to what it could be. Instead though, she simply smiled. She had no reason to fear the man. She and her district liked the Capitol. Perhaps it was a bit twisted given that these were the people sending her and others to their death, but it was a small price to pay, it seemed.

But on the other hand, nothing was ever as it seemed. Still… Amy had volunteered for the games and had not said or felt like she had done anything worthy of gaining the Capitol's ire. She saw no reason to bite the hand that fed her like this.

Either way, the tributes were led back to the tribute tower, where they disembarked and many of them went up the elevators to their apartments again.

"You coming, kid?" Marcus called out, holding an elevator door open for her as a boy from District 5 and a girl from District 8 stepped in with him.

"I—I'll just be a minute," Amy admitted, but Marcus just laughed.

"The training center will still be there when you get changed," he quipped, "or do you like showing off your legs like that?"

"Oh, stuff it!" Amy rolled her eyes and laughed, but boarded another elevator and took it downwards.

She caught her first glimpse of the dimly lit training room—a place that she and the others would spend the next week familiarizing themselves with as they prepared to literally kill each other. It was deserted and devoid of Capitol officials even though, and that made Amy curious. What if tributes tried to attack each other early? She assumed there was some kind of technology in the walls or something that could shoot at the offender to prevent the action or whatnot. Amy didn't worry about that though, because she was not here to cause trouble. Sure the story of a tribute going rogue would last a year or two, but Amy intended to be immortalized, so to speak, regardless of if she became a victor or not.

She was only alone for a few moments though before the first tributes started to appear down here to get a look at the place. Some more eager or curious tributes would want to come explore the training center the night before, and Amy was among them. He found himself soon being greeted by Marcus, as well as those District 3 kids Shaft and Asher; and a pair of kids from District 8.

"Someone was eager," Marcus unsurprisingly teased as he eyed Amy's little costume.

"I doubt too many people care what the victor is wearing when he or she wins the 'games," Amy retorted, "but hey. Nice seeing you, ya big lummox. Put me down!"

Marcus laughed. "I haven't even touched you yet!" he defended himself.

"You were about to," Amy retorted, "I can see that mischievous glint in your eyes."

"And what are you going to do about it, tiny?" Marcus teased, sweeping Amy up off of her feet, causing the tiny girl to squeal in such a way that she was now red and embarrassed. Then, a moment later she realized that she was still holding the hammer and chisel props from the parade… so, she threw them at Marcus' head.

"Ouch! Ouch!" he flinched slightly as the props hit him, but they were light and not meant to be weapons. "Just for that, missy…" he lifted Amy up over his head, causing some of the others to laugh as Amy froze, not wanting to fall out of the giant boy's hands.

"Marcus, I'm going to gut you so brutally at the cornucopia for this!" she barked.

Marcus dropped her almost unceremoniously on her feet, where those wings attached to her back flapped in an amusing display.

"You ass," she punched him, before turning around and noticing District 3 glancing at them.

"So this is the great Marcus and Amy from District 2, huh?" the boy smirked.

"What of it," Amy instantly defended herself.

"Nothing," he smirked, "but I think the four of us could get along…"


	7. Chapter 7: Friendly Matters

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _Aveline makes a brief appearance in this chapter as we get to see bit more about the tributes that she's mentoring this year. Also, we learn a little more about Marcus and Amy, and about that District 3 pair. The career pack also begins to take shape, and despite their 'quarrels', Marcus and Amy are still as close of friends as ever._

**CHAPTER 7: Friendly Matters**

Marcus and Amy's sojourn in the training room was brief, but they did manage to gain the approval of the strong-looking District 3 pair due to Marcus' silly stunt of lifting Amy over his head. They did not linger long here though, knowing that they would have plenty of time to come back tomorrow.

"I'm honestly half-surprised Misaha and Zakuya didn't suggest you carry me over your head," she quipped, "or did they tell you that?"  
"They don't talk to us at all, remember?" Marcus reminded her as they were joined in the elevator by a girl from District 12, as well as Aveline, her mentor. For a moment, before any buttons were pressed, Amy and Ava's eyes met, but instead of anything harsh, Ava had a few respectful words to say to them.

"The two of you looked good out there," the tiny mentor complimented, "your mentor must be proud."

Amy actually cracked a genuine little smile at this. "District 2 admires strength and courage." She replied, "That is why we remember your friend Chel… and that is why many of us respect you."

Monica was the only one who felt awkward by all of that, and she pushed the 2 and 12 buttons on the elevator, causing it to move.

"Well thank you then," Ava nodded softly. She did not want to really say much more on the subject, not wanting to remind them that she felt no glory for doing what she had done—that it was only necessary for her own survival.

"No problem," Amy and Marcus waved as they got off on the District 2 floor, "See you around."

Aveline personally felt that District 2 got a bad rap most of the time since it produced so many bloodthirsty career tributes that would slay other children with impunity. They had quite an impressive record over the years given that for as long as Ava could remember, District 2 was always responsible for multiple tribute deaths, and for never dying in the bloodbath.

"Please tell me you're not rooting for them," Monica sighed as they reached the 12th floor and got off, meeting Rafael there. "you're kind of supposed to be *our* lifeline, remember?"

"I'm still on your side—I'm not rooting for them," Ava insisted, "but I can respect them. I respected Chel and Chaco from my games."  
"Well, you do seem pretty fond of District 2," Rafael quipped,

"I respected others too!" Ava defended herself, "Zaffre; Samuel; Ginger; Florence; Alice…"

"What about Iris?" Monica spoke up, "she killed your brother."  
Aveline froze on the spot, tensing up, and for a moment there was awkward silence.

"We are not going to talk about this," she crossed her arms. "Do not speak of her again."

Even a year after the fact, Iris triggered unusual emotions in Ava Togisala. On one side, that girl had brutally slaughtered Ava's brother and district partner in the opening minutes, but on the other hand, Ava had seen Iris Durango at her most vulnerable, realizing that she was just another young girl whose mind had been twisted by the Capitol's games.

Needless to say, Rafael and Monica exchanged skeptical glances, but did not say anything else as their mentor disappeared into her room.

"I think it's still weird," Rafael pointed out, "she's our mentor and yet we're older than her."

"It's not like I disrespect her;" Monica shook her head, "but I've heard the victors talk. They don't even understand each other. How can we expect them to understand us, or us understand them?"  
"I guess we just have to trust them." Rafael shrugged, "they're kind of our lifeline here, so maybe we should cut back some of the sass."  
"There's a fine line between being sassy and being an asshole;" Monica chuckled, "I cross that line far too often."

"At least you admit it," Rafael chuckled. "still… I guess it's a way to get our minds off of the games."  
"That's one way of looking at it," Monica approved, "I'll save it for tomorrow though."  
"Not a bad idea," the boy nodded his approval. "Anyways, I'm beat. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya then," Monica cooed, her outfit beginning to come off before she even reached her room.

Ten stories down, District 2 was still awake and were discussing the night's events.

"You think '3 has any potential this year?" Marcus asked, with tiny little Amy (slightly grudgingly) situated on his lap, still in her conspicuous chariot costume (sans the wings, props, and tiara).

"Without saying 'let's propose an alliance' to them before seeing what they do… I would say they do," Amy nodded. Marcus had convinced her to sit there because he ran his fingers through her hair. Simple as it was, it seemed to be a nice little way to pacify his younger district partner, so Marcus went with it.

"Are you excited for tomorrow?" He smirked at her

"Of course," Amy nodded, "It's nothing personal or anything, but business is business and District 2 needs to win this thing if we're to send our message."  
To cut a long story short, Amy fell asleep in Marcus' lap, much to her embarrassment ("the way you caressed my hair was… ah, hell with it. You win this time, you big lunk."), but they woke up the next morning refreshed and ready to go. Laid out for them was a set of black clothing that seemed simple but effective for what it was for—training uniforms. This year they had a blue stripe on each side of the shirt, the sleeves, and the pants. A square with a number 2 on it graced the shirt on both shoulders and the back of the neck, as well as on the hips of the pants.

It made Marcus chuckle about how well the Capitol knew their sizes, and how much tinier Amy's outfit was than his own (due only of course to how vastly different they were in size). Either way, they got dressed and headed down to the training center after a quick breakfast. The career tributes were there early almost every year, and for good reason too.

The protocol for tribute training was very different than it had been in the past. Nowadays, the tributes were essentially free to come and go as they wished, and theoretically, they didn't even have to show up. This included the private sessions as well, but skipping out on those would just earn the tribute a training score of 0, which was something everyone would laugh at.

Of course, there was little motivation not to hit up the training center considering that tributes were still of course confined to their apartments or this building, and so they might as well put the designated week to some good use.

Even with how early they had arrived, they still found that they had been beaten there by both tributes from Districts 1, 3, and 4. The former of these seemed to be waiting for them.  
"We were wondering when District 2 would show up," Charm, the girl from District 1, cooed. "it's been hours since we got here! We've tried everything already!"

"Bull," Amy laughed. Charm giggled and admitted that she had been lying and had only arrived about 15 minutes prior. After a bit of meeting and greeting, both Charm and Luster agreed to an alliance. District 4 was quietly by themselves, watching them with cautious eyes.

"Any luck with District 4?" Marcus asked Luster, who seemed to be the unofficial 'spokesperson' for District 1, just as he was such for District 2.

"All we know about them is that their names are Draco and Amanda." Luster shrugged, "As soon as District 3's done doing whatever they're doing though, they did say they wanted to talk to you."

"Me, or both of us?" Marcus tilted his head.

"Both of you," Luster indicated; "something about an alliance, I assume"  
"No luck with '4 then, eh?" Amy glanced up at the District 1 boy.

"none yet," Luster nodded, "but I think we could settle with '1, '2, and '3, if you two are up for it?"  
"Of course," Marcus grinned, "gotta have the career pack going strong, right?"

Even Amy nodded in agreement, before they turned to watch District 3 run a gauntlet that had apparently been set up by District 1. A test, perhaps; but it had both of the District 2 tributes nodding in approval. Soon, Shaft and Asher approached them, grinning proudly.

"Are you two up for allowing two more tributes into your pack?" Shaft offered his hand, which Amy almost instantly took.

"Aye, we're down," the tiny girl smirked, "hopefully we will not regret that decision."  
"Come now," Asher giggled, "joining the career pack is almost an ultimatum. If you recruit us, we either join you, or we decline and you come and kill us in the opening minutes. We wouldn't ask to join if we didn't think we could handle ourselves."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Marcus laughed, noticing other tributes begin to appear, "come on. Let's go try out some of these fancy weapons so that the others will remember who the strongest tributes are."  
Amy was not big on the whole arrogance factor, but she didn't mind having her ego stroked. Despite her tiny size, she quickly proved to be as good as Luster, Charm, Asher, and Shaft, and even as talented as her partner Marcus. Her spirits were high—this was going to be a good day.


	8. Chapter 8: Meeting the Tributes

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _and here we finally get to see a majority of the other tributes-as well as a handful of the problematic ones. Now I suppose it's just a matter of deciding if the careers are the "good guys" this year, or if they're still the "bad guys". Either way, their alliances and oppositions seem a bit more clear-cut by the end of this chapter, though there are still plenty of wildcards to go around. Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 8: Meeting the Tributes**

Training day had begun, and as was practically customary by this time, the career tributes all went for the stations with the heavy weapons so they could show off their speed and agility. One thing the others from Districts 1 and 3 realized was that despite Amy's diminutive stature, she was not weak or frail. Luster found this out the hard way.

"Come on, I was just joshing you, kid," he ruffled the girl's hair, hoping to diffuse the small amount of tension that had formed between them."  
"You two should arm wrestle," Marcus suggested, "just use that table near the rope station."

"That'd be overkill," Luster chortled, and surprisingly, Amy nodded.

"I don't want District 1's best ending up with a broken wrist." The tiny girl quipped. This was a striking blow to Luster's pride, and so he invited Amy to the table, sitting across from her. Marcus, Charm, Shaft, and Asher were all right behind them.

A girl from District 8, who had been working with the ropes nearby, stopped to watch the spectacle. She was soon accompanied by a pair of kids with an 11 on their uniforms, as well as a boy with a number 5.

Asher from District 3 worked to 'officiate' the tournament. They began with their left arms, with Amy and Luster putting their hands together as so. The instant the girl released the two tributes' hands, they tensed up and the struggle began.

Everyone present made a mental note to watch out for Amy's left arm, as she ended up slamming Luster's hand to the table in a successful victory. After the usual bout of 'ooh's and 'ahh's from the crowd, they switched hands.

"It's Aveline all over again," Cherry, the girl from '11 quipped.

"Oh no, it's not," Amy turned to smirk at the larger girl, "I am not left-handed." Aveline had surprised a few people last year during her games by pretending she was right-handed only to reveal she was actually left-handed. Amy, however, was not going down that road.

The results of the right-handed arm-wrestle took slightly longer to appear, but Amy emerged victorious once again, leaving Luster shaking his head.

"Well-played, boy; well played." The tiny girl offered her hand to shake; it had just been a friendly competition, after all—not a schism of the career pack.

Amy strode over towards the ranged weapons station, picking up a set of knives that earned her a distinct look from Marcus.

"What the hell are you—" she began, "oh, is this about that stereotype thing you mentioned on the train? Because if it is, I'm going to hit you."  
"I wasn't joking when I said it was," the massive boy smirked, keeping his arms crossed as Amy stayed true to her word and struck him in the stomach. He did not flinch, but he did rub it a bit after she reeled her hand back in.

"Well what about the boys then," she quipped, "they're all these big dumb brutes with more brawn than brains who go for the giant swords or axes."  
"Just for that," Marcus chuckled, ruffling Amy's hair rather forcefully, "I'm going to prove you wrong."

"Ooooh, you going to use a bow or something?" she nodded her head towards the nearby archery station, where the District 11 pair and the boy from District 12 had gone.

"No, I'll just use a club or something," Marcus answered, "or maybe I'll go for the swords and axes anyways. Who cares about generalizations? District 2 is apparently doing something right, given how many victors we have. If it ain't broke; don't fix it."

One of the oddities this year was that the District 3 pair were right alongside the careers demonstrating their abilities all the same. Perhaps there was a reason they had volunteered after all.

"If you two keep up like this," Marcus quipped after an hour or two of swinging swords and axes alongside Shaft and Asher, "I'll start wondering if District 3 has built training academies or not."

"Not yet," Asher chuckled, "but we have volunteers now and again."  
"So do you two have any technological intellect and prowess?" Amy raised an eyebrow.

"What do you take us for, District 1?" Shaft exclaimed with a laugh before he received a tap on the shoulder from a slightly cross-looking Charm.

"We're right next to you, you know." She retorted, before picking up her spear, turning around and lobbing it squarely into the center of her target.  
"One thing you might have noticed about us," Shaft reassured her, "we joke a lot."

"Careful whose egos you threaten," Marcus teased, "we careers take it seriously."  
"Duly noted," Asher and Shaft nodded approvingly, "anything else we need to know in order to be admitted into your super special club?"  
"You've gotta know how to kick ass and fight," Luster explained, "otherwise, I think the two of you have got what it takes."

"Well that's a relief," Asher giggled, before glancing around, "oh dear… we might have competition…"  
It was hard to tell if she was being serious or not, but when the others glanced around at Asher's line of sight, they noticed the dark-skinned tributes from Districts 11 and 12 speaking to each other rather reservedly over near the survival stations. They all appeared to be very solidly built, which in turn caused Marcus to make a joke to Amy about how she was the smallest tribute this year.  
"Well then," she retorted without skipping a beat, "it seems that the tiniest tribute of the games is going to win for the 2nd year in a row then. At least I know I'll have a few challenges." She glanced at Marcus, and then at the pairs from District 1 and District 3. Moments later, they glanced over at the pairs of tributes from District 11 and District 12, who were glancing back at them. Charm waved and smiled at them, but otherwise the tributes went back to their business.

Soon, it was mid-afternoon and most of the tributes had gone to lunch, including the career pack, who, as usual, had taken their own table. This year it was shaping up to be District 1 and District 2 as usual, but also District 3 again. The District 4 tributes, Draco and Amanda, seemed less interested in joining this year, so there would not likely be another Iris Durango from this district.

The suspicions Marcus and Amy had about District 11 and District 12 teaming up were confirmed though, for they sat together and conversed as if they were good friends. While tributes were a bit more open with each other in recent years as opposed to historically, usually they only sat close to each other at lunch when they were in an alliance of some sort.

"2 and 3 will be a handful this year," Cherry insisted, turning to the others.

"That girl is tiny though," Monica laughed, "smaller even than Kairi or Hotaru from District 5 and 7." Those two were the youngest tributes this year (both 13), but were both taller than Amy.

"That didn't stop Aveline, did it?" Dante quipped,

"Course not," Monica nodded, turning to Rafael who was scribbling on a piece of paper. "but I suppose what it means is that we need to watch her carefully. Her partner will also be trouble."

No one doubted that Marcus Romero would score high. He was tall and muscular, and had proven his strength already in the first few hours of training.

"So, Rafael," the District 11 pair turned to the quieter boy, "what did you see about them? You were taking notes on all the tributes, weren't you?"  
"Aye," he nodded, "Luster, the boy from '1, uses a sword. He and his partner Charm are a bit ditzy, but strong. She uses spears, and so she's deadlier from a range. They'll work together well for sure."

The others nodded, mentally noting these facts as Rafael continued.

"Asher from District 3 shows considerable proficiency with clubs and maces; she seems to like the blunt objects; or might go for hammers if she can find them." he went to District 3 next, "and the boy, Shaft, is an archer. Both of them have a very good aim, and seem to be pretty adept at building traps."

"So what about District 2?" Monica seemed the most interested in all of this, and apparently her partner was the most observant one.

"They both specialize in exactly what you'd think they would specialize in," the boy explained, "Marcus uses heavy weapons, and Amy uses knives. The good news is that I think they were full enough of themselves that they did not pay us much attention until we glanced their way. Just don't draw too much attention to yourselves. The element of surprise was one of the keys to Ava's success."

Most of the tributes returned to the training center after lunch. While they all technically had a whole week to decide who was and wasn't going to be part of their alliances, it seemed that most of them had already made up their minds halfway through the first day.


	9. Chapter 9: A Tribute's Lament

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Tomorrow (in-story) we get to the training scores. In the meantime, remember that Career Tributes are human too, and they've got their own hopes and dreams and wants and fears. Amy Zavala is no exception. It doesn't make her weak-it makes her real._  
_Also, Marcus has a heart too. He's not just this big dumb idiot who teases her or anything. Let it not be said that there's a lack of some strong District 2 unity this year. Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 9: A Tribute's Lament**

Days 2 through 6 of training were all roughly the same, with the alliances becoming more and more clear-cut with each passing day. District 11 and District 12 were definitely a formal alliance at this point, and they seemed to have also recruited Talon Marcos and Azure Velaskez from District 8 onto their side. It would be a 6-on-6 battle if it came to that, for the career pack this year had been clearly defined as Districts 1, 2, and 3. The other districts in between had made up alliances of their own, and many of them were still flying solo.

Little of this mattered to Amy Zavala though. She had a message to send, and wanted to make sure that it was loud and clear. All these alliances meant was that anyone outside of Districts 1, 2, 3, 8, 11, and 12 would be hard-pressed to win against two powerful alliances consisting of half of the tribute pool.

"Any idea how long that alliance will hold up," Marcus joked over breakfast that morning—tomorrow would be the private sessions, where they would learn their scores. It would be one of the last two places where the tributes could appeal to sponsors, the other being the tribute interviews that would be that night. Then, they would get hauled off first thing the next morning to be thrown into an arena and fight to the death. It was a grim cycle, but there was a saying that circulated around District 2 that referenced this.

"_Many must die so that a few may live in glory."_

Amy did not just view that as a reference to the Hunger Games, but also as a reference to the Capitol. Maybe she had spent too much time listening to Enobaria ramble about it, but she had never thought about it too hard.

"They might be a valid threat," Amy agreed with Marcus regarding his question, "if there's one thing that the academies taught me that I wouldn't have thought of myself, was to never underestimate a tribute. There is no telling what kids will do when they are desperate enough."

"That's truer than you think," Clove spoke up after swallowing a large chunk of food practically whole, "Everyone says they remember how Enobaria tore a kid's throat out, but do you know who it actually happened?" It had been 30 years ago, and so there was technically plenty of time for the details to be a little on the hazy side.

"They were grappling—the final two," Clove continued, taking the silence as a negative, "he was trying to pin her, but she was clinging too closely to him. Realizing that she had an opening, she sunk her teeth into his neck and tore his throat out just like that. She was a bloody mess by the time she got back to the hovercraft to get cleaned up."

"So here's another one for you," Marcus spoke up, "usually District 2 has two mentors—how come it's just you by your lonesome?" He had been meaning to ask, but Clove was a volatile creature, and his mind had gotten occupied with other things such as training in the meantime.

"Because Elroy retired after Kaede and Katsuo won, and those two aren't fit to mentor," Clove shrugged, "so they dragged me back up to the stage kicking and screaming, stuck a needle in my arm, and here I am. It's a grizzly cycle."  
"Bullshit," Amy called the mentor out.

"Fine; you're right. I volunteered for it again, but that doesn't mean that it's all a happy world of milk and honey, y'see. It's about damn time District 2 got a victor who wasn't completely broken by the games. Stay sane, kids, alright?"

"Of course," Marcus gave her his friendly smirk, "if Districts 11 and 12 can come out of there unscathed, so can we."

"oh, no one comes out of the arena unscathed," Clove corrected him, "there isn't a single victor, no matter how charming and calm they appear on screen, that isn't a shattered mess of who they used to be. Some are just worse than others. I'm certainly not the token example of a happy, healthy victor. If that's the message you're trying to send, Amy, I've got bad news for you."

"There are a lot of messages I wish to send," Amy indicated, "but the main one is that I not only intend to win, but I intend to bring home a victor the following year. The Hunger Games are more than just strength, you know. There are smarts involved—especially with that Head Gamemaker."

"Hey now, kiddo," Marcus ruffled her hair, "don't get too uppity yet. "Shouting strategies isn't going to do much when a bigger kid puts you in a headlock." He laughed and demonstrated this on her, causing Amy to hiss as she was lifted from her seat at the breakfast table.

"Oh come ON, you ass. I'm eating!" she growled, but even Clove laughed.

"I'd say be careful not to get too big for your britches, kid." She joked, "but that doesn't seem to be a problem, given your size."  
Amy groaned, hanging limp in Marcus' arms, before he thankfully let her go and the two of them took their seats again.

"Et tu, Clove?" she glared at her mentor, who was quietly eating her food as if nothing had happened.

The two tributes finished breakfast and headed down to the training room again where they both showed off their skills alongside District 1 and District 3. Their most threatening alliance, which would likely be comprised of Districts 8, 11, and 12, seemed to be working more with things like camouflage, traps, and survival, which made Amy pick up on what they were doing. Amy gave Marcus a look before casting one their way. The larger boy nodded and whispered that they would talk about it later.

The day wore on, and it was clear that Districts 1, 2, and 3 were going to be formidable, but on the other hand, even District 8 was shaping up to be something good this year. Last year, they lost an average-scoring tribute in the bloodbath and a very high-scoring tribute to Aveline from District 12, just moments after he had killed a powerful District 7 girl.

Amy did get a bit roughhoused by the others, though it was all in good fun. It was almost comical how much smaller she was than any of the others, both in the career pack and outside of it. She was the only one who had not topped 5 feet yet.

At the end of the day though, she seemed upset. She was able to put that aside for a bit as she spoke to Marcus on their way to their apartment.

"You know what '11 and '12 are doing, right?"  
"They're doing what they do best," he shrugged, "survival." The outer districts were used to going without food, and knew the wilderness a bit better than other districts. That Sagittaria girl was right. District 11 had seen a lot.

"They're also not showing us what they specialize in," Amy pointed out."  
"Come on, we can still knock their heads in, right?" Marcus reassured her, though Amy still seemed a bit upset about something. Marcus was not too thick to notice.

"Okay, I'll bite. What's wrong?"

"Honestly…" Amy took a deep breath, "I don't like the way you all throw me around just because I'm small and easy to carry. I don't care if you make fun of me for being tiny, but those others—even District 3—they have no rights to be pushing me around."

"Come on," Marcus tried reassuring her, "I highly doubt that they don't think you're dangerous,"

"That doesn't change anything though. Even if they do think I'm dangerous, they aren't taking me seriously—which I guess is fine and all, but if we're a team, we should at least act like one until we take out Districts 11 and 12."

"I've got your back, kid" Marcus reassured her, "I know I'm probably responsible for half the teasing, but I know you—and I respect you. Think of it this way—when it comes down to the six of us, we can turn on them and do them in just like that—Flawless victory."

"Maybe I'm just in kind of a slump," Amy admitted, "I was sure that some outlying district would have a kid smaller than me… but no. Here I am, from District 2, and I'm still the tiniest little runt that gets made fun of and shit. It shouldn't bother me… but it does. Those kids have no right to do that."  
"Ego issues, huh?" Marcus patted her back.

"That's one way to put it," Amy nodded, "just… ugh. I wish I could get my training score already so I can remind them who's boss; or accept that I'm weak."

"Hey, don't start getting doubts about yourself now, Amy," Marcus smirked, "unlike them, you volunteered. If you had waited 4 years, you might have fared even better."

"I guess that's just another message I need to send then—that just because I'm the runt of the pack doesn't mean I'm weak. Thanks for hearing me out Marcus. As much as I smacktalk you… well, just thanks." She put her arms around the larger boy appreciatively for a moment.

"Let's get some rest though—private sessions tomorrow, right?"  
"Right," Marcus ruffled her hair, grinning, "we've got those in the bag…


	10. Chapter 10: The Scores

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Slightly late chapter, and those who have read my prequel will recognize the title being the same. This, since this is the scores chapter, it will be longer than usual. Also, remember that Marcus and Amy are good friends. They just show their affection by harassing each other, like best friends do._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 10: The Scores**

The morning of the private sessions had finally arrived. This was Amy's time to shine, and also Marcus's. District 2 was going to do extremely well this year—maybe even perfectly. Not that Amy wanted to outshine Chel Colorado from last year (who had scored a perfect 12), but she did want to let the others know that she was not just some tiny little kid who had gotten lucky. District 3 and District 1 seemed to understand this though, and so hopefully the others would soon learn too.

"Go all out, or don't go out at all," Clove told them over breakfast. Her mouth had been rather full when she said this, but Marcus and Amy had both still understood what she was saying.

"Why would we do anything less?" Marcus quipped, "We're career tributes. The others need to fear us—not the other way around."  
"District 11 and District 12 are planning something… and something bold if they've recruited District 8. Those kids didn't look too threatening."

"Fair enough," Marcus acknowledged that it was never wise to underestimate a tribute; even ones form the outlying districts such as 11 and 12. District 12 used to be a laughingstock, but they had recently scored 2 victors in the last decade. District 11 had a grand total of 8 victors, spaced fairly evenly, over Hunger Games history.

"District 2, District 2" Clove chanted, "where there is loyalty there is victory." It was a cheesy little chant that had been circulating around for a while, though had not really shown its face since the days of Katsuo and Kaede, who had been the district's last victors.

"Loyalty to the cause," Amy and Marcus chanted, and while neither one said it, they were not talking about the cause of the Capitol.

"I don't need to tell ya then, what you need to do," Clove explained, "you go big or go home. Either that or I kill you before the games."

"There's a rule against that," Amy reminded her.

"Does it look like I care?" Clove retorted, "stick a needle in my arm if you want to control me."  
Amy actually grabbed one of the needles Clove kept by her and stabbed her shoulder. The mentor tensed up, before slumping back in her chair, glazed-eyed. Marcus chuckled.

"She's either going to hate you or salute you for that," he quipped,

"She'll like me," Amy nodded, "Clove likes tributes with gall."  
Sure enough, they were just finishing breakfast when Clove came back around, groaning. "You're a right forward little shit, Amy," she grunted, "I like kids like you."

"I do what I can," Amy retorted, "it's the only way people ever consider taking the little runt of the tribute pack seriously."

"Well you best be getting down there." Clove warned. She always seemed much calmer after getting pricked with those needles. It made Amy wonder what was in them, but she didn't ask. "If Charm and Luster have already gone you'll be late."  
The two tributes, already in their training uniforms for the day, scrambled down there and found that District 1 was actually still waiting as well. The tributes were whispering among themselves, all the way down to Districts 11 and 12. Dante from '11 and Monica from '12 seemed to be throwing dice with each other, and the kids from District 8 were chatting with the kids from Districts 7 and 9.

Soon, Luster Marcelo was called in, and about 15 minutes later, Charm DeMetz was summoned.

It was thus not long before Amy Zavala was going to demonstrate her skills. First though, Marcus went in with a smirk and a "Wish me luck!"

"You don't need luck, you great oaf," Amy retorted. Marcus simply chuckled.

The large boy glanced up at the Gamemakers, where he saw Zurok step forward to address him personally. He recognized her for her long, pointed ears and the wings on her back. The Capitol people did seem to go pretty far with their appearances sometimes.

"Welcome, Marcus Romero," she cooed, in an oddly unsettling grandmotherly tone, "you have 15 minutes to present your chosen skill. And remember: you catch more Night Witches with honey. Begin."

Marcus didn't know what to make of that last part, but shrugged and demonstrated his skills. He pressed buttons to summon hordes of holograms, which he cleaved through with two-handed swords, battleaxes, spears, maces, clubs, and hammers. He was strong but he was also fast. Not a single holographic dummy reached his place. He felt 15 minutes of boasting his strength, weapon diversity, and speed would be good enough, and so when they dismissed him, he bowed.

"Thank you for your consideration," he smirked, before striding out.

"You're up, kiddo," he ruffled Amy's hair, and moments later, her name was called.

She too faced Zurok once in the training center again, and she said the same things to her.

"Welcome, Amy Zavala," the old woman smiled sweetly, "You have 15 minutes to present your chosen skills. And remember: you catch more Night Witches with honey. Begin…"

Amy did something similar to Marcus, except instead of grabbing battleaxes or greatswords, she grabbed throwing knives and daggers. She exhausted her throwing knives as she hurled a couple dozen of them at the charging holograms, which burst as they were struck in a killing location, and went into melee combat with her daggers once those were gone. She managed to sweep through them rather effectively as well, until her 15 minutes were up.

"Thank you for your consideration," the tiny girl bowed before exiting.

"Tell you what," Marcus smirked, one they were back in the apartment, "Let's play a game of cards here while we wait for the others to finish. We can bet on it."  
"What do we have to bet?" Amy tilted her head.

"Well, I thinking," Marcus smirked. "If you beat me, I'll stop teasing you. If I beat you, you have to sit on my lap while we watch the scores."  
"Why the hell do you want that?" Amy looked slightly irked.

"To annoy you." He smirked shamelessly. Amy cracked a smile, groaned, and shook her head.

"Anything to try and get you off my ass, you great stupid lug;" She elbowed him, "fine, let's play."

Much to her dismay, Amy lost the game, and so when late afternoon came to watch the scores, Amy was perched on Marcus' lap, her face so long it was almost sagging. But, soon she perked up, for the television had come on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen—the training scores of this year's tributes, for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games."

Marcus and Amy were now watching the screen intently, Amy not even caring that Marcus had his arms around her.

_"Luster Marcelo; District 1, with a score of… 10"  
_This was unsurprising. Amy went into full analytical mode at this point, figuring and guessing what the other tributes might have done.

_"Charm DeMetz; District 1, with a score of… 11"  
_Amy and Marcus both expressed surprise at this one, thinking that Charm was kind of a ditz. Well, if she could kill things effectively, she was a good member of the team in their eyes.

_"Marcus Romero; District 2, with a score of… 12"  
_Amy smirked, and was not surprised. Marcus threw his arms into the air and cheered.  
"Good job, ya stupid idiot," Amy smirked, "now shaddup and lemme see my score."

_"Amy Zavala; District 2, with a score of… 12"  
_"Your words wound me… so does that score," Marcus joked, and Amy simply smirked. She had scored perfectly. District 2 had scored perfectly. They had both gotten perfect 12s.

_"Shaft Monroe; District 3, with a score of… 10"  
_The careers had made a wise choice in recruiting that District 3 boy. He'd definitely be a valuable ally if his score was anything to go by.

_"Asher Carrol; District 3, with a score of… 11"  
_Asher was 18, and if she had volunteered, that kind of training score was clearly an explanation why.

_"Draco VanHelen; District 4, with a score of… 8"  
_Marcus quipped about how Draco was a weird name, but otherwise had nothing to add to that.

_"Amanda Stanton; District 4, with a score of… 7"  
_Amanda had some mighty large shoes to fill if she was going to be the next Iris Durango. Sometimg told Amy that she wouldn't make it far enough to do that though.

_"Spark Tracey; District 5, with a score of… 8"  
_"I never know what to expect from District 5," Marcus quipped, "kind of like how I never know you, Amy. You're a mystery to me."

_"Kairi Osega; District 5, with a score of… 6"  
_"Oh come now… now you're just playing stupid on purpose. You're not as stupid as you look, Marcus, and that says something."

_"Axel Tikani; District 6, with a score of… 7"  
_"Why must you verbally abuse me with such hateful words, Amy? I thought we were friends."

_"Erika Chandni; District 6, with a score of… 6"  
_"Marcus, in case you haven't noticed by now, it's how I show affection. Why do you think I never talk shit about Districts 1 or 3?"

_"Arato Redwood; District 7, with a score of… 8"  
_"Well haven't I said that I show affecting by roughhousing you, Amy?" Marcus ruffled Amy's hair at this. They weren't really paying too much attention to any of these scores since they didn't seem like threats.

_"Hotaru Lee; District 7, with a score of… 7"  
_"Acha… fine. You win this one, Marcus. Just this once… as soon as the scores are done, our bet contract ends though, and you know it."

_"Talon Marcos; District 8, with a score of… 5"  
_"Fine," Marcus laughed, "you know I love you, Amy." a 5, huh? He didn't seem like too promising of an ally for Districts 11 and 12, that was for sure.

_"Azure Velzaskez; District 8, with a score of… 7"  
_"Love you too, Marcus," Amy cracked. 7 was not much higher than 5, and so that kind of score did not seem like it would be something to worry about.

_"Husk Levan; District 9, with a score of… 5"  
_Now they were back to the guaranteed fodder for sure.

_"Petrice Hoffman; District 9, with a score of… 4"  
_Yup… Marcus and Amy were practically calling dibs on who to off in the bloodbath by now.

_"Humberto Morrel; District 10, with a score of… 3"  
_"He's so going to die first," Marcus quipped, "Someone should just throw something at his pedestal and save the trouble."  
"If you throw me, Marcus, you'll get blown to smithereens first," Amy retorted.

_"Lizzie Mack; District 10, with a score of… 6"  
_Still nothing impressive out of District 10 it seemed, but no matter. Every district did differently in the games, with Districts 1 and 2 doing the best, and 9 and 10 having the sloppiest records.

_"Dante Daniels; District 11, with a score of… 9"  
_Now it was time to start paying attention again. District 11 usually scored pretty solidly, even if they did not necessarily outscore the careers. Amy was not counting on being able to off one of these kids in the bloodbath, unless his partner was weak…

_"Cherry Valdez; District 11, with a score of… 9"  
_Nope; she was just as good as her partner… District 12 had chosen well… or had District 11 initiated the alliance? It was hard to tell, and didn't really matter. Now was the part that interested Amy the most though—what had those elusive District 12 tributes done? How well were Aveline's first tributes going to perform in these games?

_"Rafel West; District 12, with a score of… 10"  
_Amy raised her eyebrows, and even nodded respectfully. Rafael would be a force to be reckoned with. District 12 could not just be taken lightly like it used to be able to.

_"Monica Savage; District 12, with a score of… 11"  
_Amy actually slow clapped for this score. Monica Savage… a worthy rival… Amy would be interested to see her on the field of combat.

"We rock!" Marcus snapped Amy out of this thought, "Two perfect scores! That's only ever happened a few times in history. Good job Amy—we've fixed ourselves some spots in the Halls of History."  
But had they?" Amy tilted her head while she smirked at Marcus. It was one thing to get an incredible score along with one's partner, but the things that one did were what made all the difference. Chel Colorado had been right—it was not how long you lived. It was what you did with your life that mattered.


	11. Chapter 11: Meeting a Mockingjay

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _Here we get to see Marcus, Amy, and the other tributes all dressed up, and the interviews will soon follow. Do note that since there has been no rebellion, the Mockingjay is not an anti-Capitol symbol yet (per se). We also get to see more about the mysterious District 11 pair, and a bit more about Monica and her inner workings. Feel free to make of her what you will at this point. She's no Iris Durango._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 11: Meeting a Mockingjay**

Perfect scores… they had done something that was still to this day considerably rare in Hunger Games history. It did seem that tributes got stronger over the years due to more sophisticated weapons, equipment, facilities, and training methods, and so seeing a tribute or two score a perfect 12 was not necessarily as big a deal as it might have been, but it was still fairly significant. However, two tributes from the same district in the same year both scoring perfectly… that was a rarity. It had only happened about 7 times in history. Valour Drazen and Aurum Zianja from District 1 had been the first ones to successfully do this, back during the 47th Annual Hunger Games. District 2 had also done it once, as had Districts 3, 4, 5, and incidentally, District 11. It had been during the 80th Hunger Games a few years ago, and a wild girl named Zenzi Tallarico had been crowned the victor. If District 11 could do it, so could District 2—for the 2nd time.

Marcus and Amy had accomplished just that, not only marking the 7th time that a pair of same-district tributes had both scored perfectly in the same year, but also gave District 2 the honor of being the only district that had done this twice now.

"So how does the runt of the tribute pack feel now?" Marcus teased her.

"Empowered," Amy nodded, "and also a bit vulnerable; Sometimes tributes will target the higher-scoring tributes."

"Isn't that considered suicide?" Marcus reminded her,

"Aye," Amy quipped, "I was just testing you. I have to make sure my big stupid lug of a partner is on his toes at all times, right?"  
"Your words hurt me, Amy," Marcus whimpered, but it was clearly an act. The boy did not seem like the type to actually cry over that, especially knowing his sense of humor.

"Someone's got to be the pisspoor mood killer," the tiny tribute quipped.

"Oh come now I'm not that bad," Marcus laughed

"I was talking about myself," Amjy laughed, "but speaking of moodkiller…" Amy cast her eyes to his right, where they saw Delun swift approaching, with the stylist pair in tow.

"Oh, he's not that bad…"  
"The stylists who won't even communicate with us are," Amy muttered,

"Aww, so you don't get flambuoyant stylists and so you go to cry the Capitol a river;" Marcus taunted, using a dorky baby-sounding voice on purpose.

"Why do I put up with you again?" Amy rolled her eyes and laughed,

"Because you know that we show affection for each other by verbally tearing each other down;"  
"Shit, you're onto me. I need better tactics."

"You've got half a night to come up with those, kiddo. Tomorrow, we get carted off to our deaths…"

Death… that was really what this was. Despite all the festivities and merriment from the Capitol, they were truly celebrating the death of otherwise innocent children. This was not something easily lost on Amy Zavala.

Delun changed the mood fairly quickly, either purposely ignoring the remarks from the tributes, or just being completely oblivious to them all.

"It's that time of night, kids!" he beamed, "Zakuya and Misaha are eager to dress the Capitol favorites up for tonight's interviews!"

Clove actually chuckled at this. She had been listening the whole time. "good luck out there," she smirked, taking a shot of something alcoholic, "I'm rooting for you obviously. District 2 has to win it if you two are scoring that high…"  
Those words did seem rather reassuring to Amy, who followed Misaha as Marcus went with Zakuya. She stripped down, got a brief wash-down, and did not need any further operations after that. Still a bit damp from the chemical bath she had just had, the tiny tribute was led into another room where she was further styled. Misaha played with her hair, almost as if she was making things up on the spot.

"Did you plan for this at all?" the slightly irked girl couldn't help but ask after several minutes. She was still naked, and was wondering what the heck was up here.

Misaha smiled and nodded, patting her head as if to reassure her that it would all be alright. To Amy's surprise, she felt a pair of fingers trace over her eyes to close them.

"You… want me to close my eyes?" she opened them to see the answer. The stylist happily nodded.

"You're weird, you know that," Amy shook her head, "fine…"  
She closed her eyes and within a few moments she found herself being brought to her feet, and garments started being placed on her body as her feet were slid into some heels. Well, this definitely meant they were not taking her down the Aveline route. While she had been adorable all dressed up like a little girl half her age, Amy didn't feel like she would fit that very well.

Instead of telling Amy to open her eyes, Misaha simply tapped them gently, prompting them to open. Amy was standing in front of a full-length mirror, dressed in a shimmering midnight purple dress with a large moon pattern over the right shoulder, adorned with glitter. The gown was sleeveless but floor length, and was adorned with a few wispy grey streaks that were probably supposed to be clouds, and then adorned with numerous glittery stars. Her shoes were black but had shimmering silver little buckles on the sides, and on her wrists were black bracelets that seemed to have a somewhat reflective quality to them. She was a symbol of the night. She couldn't help but smile as she saw her tribute token earrings in her ears (she had wondered what they were poking into her ears earlier), and so she nodded her approval. Misaha gave Amy a sweet little smile, and she raced out to go meet Marcus, having remained blissfully unaware that Zakuya had been doing the same thing to Marcus just one room over.

When the two tributes met up, they laughed at how different they were. Marcus was wearing a sky-blue suit with a radiant golden sun in the left shoulder, and wispy whites scattered across the outfit like clouds. His outfit did seem to reflect light, but was not too dazzling to blind or irritate anyone though.

"Day and night, huh," Amy quipped, "seems fitting."

"I can see it," Marcus smirked as they went to go find the other tributes and wait their turn at Caesar's stage for the interviews. "you're quiet, dark and mysterious."  
"While you're bright and obnoxiously cheerful," she joked.

"And yet without one, where is the other?" he reminded her playfully, but resisted ruffling her neatly done-up hair, not wanting to ruin the stylists' work.

They did stop as they saw some of the other tributes though. that District 3 pair were wearing what could only be described as formal eveningwear—black with tones of green. The District 1 pair seemed to be dressed in somewhat translucent clothing (particularly Charm), but it was the last two pairs of tributes that caught Marcus and Amy's eyes.

The District 11 pair were clad in blood red matching outfits. Matching outfits did kind of seem a theme here—Districts 1, 3, 7, 8, 11, and 12 had all done it. Once again, their arms were both bared; Dante wore a red dress, and Cherry's gown was sleeveless just like Amy's, showing off the broad shoulders of both District 11 tributes this year.

District 12 was particularly interesting though. They were clad in dark brown outfits, except that attacked to their arms were what looked like feathers, as if they were wings. On their heads they did have unusual-looking tiaras, and both of them had small trains of fabric resembling large feathered tails or some sort—Birds… Mockingjays, perhaps?

It was an interesting move, and Amy wasn't sure what District 12 was trying to pull with something like that. It did not seem to be something against the Capitol, and even if it did, Rafael and Monica did not quite seem the type.

The tributes were mixing and mingling while the fanfare of the Caesar Flickerman Show played in front of the stage. They were able to converse a little before the event actually started, as it was better to be early than late. Amy decided to break this ice once and for all with the outlying districts though.

"Nice dress," she complimented Monica's feathery Mockingjay-styled outfit.

"They put you in an interesting one too…" Monica quipped, "and your partner—seems fitting enough though, given your personalities."  
"I'm not sure if I should be insulted or feel complimented," Amy quipped, looking up at the taller girl.

"Take your pick," Monica cooed, "And may the odds be ever in your favor. You catch more Night Witches with honey, after all…"

"Ha! What do you know about that?" Amy exclaimed, suddenly more interested.

"Only that the Gamemakers told me that during my private session," she quipped. She had gotten an 11, so whatever she had done must have been good. Granted, it was still no match for Amy's 12, and she was going to prove it or (literally) die trying.

"Hold that though," Monica chuckled, stepping back into line, "The interviews are starting…"  
And sure enough, "Charm DeMetz" was being called to the stage a second later.


	12. Chapter 12: Words of a Mockingjay

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Thus we reach the final chapter of Part I, before we move into the 'games in the next chapter. Thus, here we see the tribute interviews, sand thus a bit more insight into people like Marcus, Amy, Rafael, and Monica. While my last fic might have had a clearer antagonist (Iris), this one is a bit more depending on who you side with. That said... Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 12: Words of a Mockingjay**

Charm was fairly flirty with the audience, and Luster behaved similarly. District 1 always seemed to produce the especially pretty ones, and even Marcus and Amy could admit that. District 2, by contrast, were usually more athletically toned and larger. Amy was one of the few exceptions.

Soon, she heard her name, and so with her shoulders back and head held high, the tiny girl strode out rather gracefully to meet Caesar before shaking his hand and sitting down.

"You're a rarity for District 2," he commented as the interview began, "but considering how your district chooses its tributes, I'm certain it was not just… 'luck of the draw', now was it?"  
The audiences chuckled at this one, and even Amy cracked a smirk.

"Oh, no, it was definitely not luck of the draw," Amy nodded, "you can be sure of that."  
"So what prompted you to volunteer at such a young age?" he asked, "surely there's something significant about such a strategy…"  
He and the Capitol were actually genuinely interested in this answer, given how rare it was to see such a young and tiny tribute emerge from one of the career districts. They liked when tributes threw a wrench into the system, so to speak. It kept the games fresh, unique, and interesting. Aveline Togisala and Chel Colorado had both done this last year, even before they had formed their alliance.

"I wanted to send a message," Amy explained confidently, "Aveline from last year might have reminded Panem not to count out the smallest of the tributes, but I plan to take it a step further. Not only do I intend to win this year, but I intend to bring home a victor from my district the year after."

These were bold words, and Caesar was used to hearing almost every tribute claim or promise that they were going to win. He kept the positive spin on things though by encouraging them. Few, however, worried much about the year after the way Amy had.

"Following in the footsteps of the great Leto Irizari, are you?" Caesar smirked, "35th Hunger Games… my first year of interviewing tributes. That's how I remember!" Caesar laughed again, causing the Capitol audiences to go wild right with him. Amy's interview continued, discussing how she and Marcus had scored perfectly, and she was asked a bit about her relationship with Marcus.

"just friends," she nodded with a surprisingly sincere smile, "we trained together."

The interview continued, and Amy found that either the Capitol was putting on a really good show at making her in particular feel special, or that they genuinely liked her. Soon, however, she was dismissed with a round of applause and Marcus took the stage. He gave a 'whoop-whoop' as the Capitol cheered for him, and soon his interview was in full swing. Amy did linger behind, glancing at the other lined-up tributes, all of which had varying levels of confidence about what was coming up for them. Marcus was a hit though, and she heard the audiences laugh for him many times as he joked about this or that. She smiled at one point where the boy had said he liked Amy, accepting that while there was nothing romantic between them or anything, that he did in fact see her as one of his best friends.

Soon, he came back to meet her, and Asher from District 3 took the stage. They were very much like their predecessors last year—brilliant, cunning, and fairly amiable. This continued all the way down to District 11, who were both fairly quiet this year, and then to District 12. It seemed Ava's first set of tributes were fighters, particularly Monica.

"District 12's back on the map!" the girl had stated with rather powerful confidence. "And don't anyone forget it!" The Capitol did like that kind of confidence, and even Aveline, who was watching in the audience with the other mentors, was willing to respect that. She had mixed feelings about her tributes this year, particularly the girl, but she was obviously going to support them because she wanted District 12 to win again.

Amy also overheard interesting remarks about her outfit. Monica explained that it was to show synergy—that sometimes two things could come together and output more than what they were originally worth by themselves.

Rafael wrapped up the show by speaking similarly, and was similarly just as forward. It was clear that District 12 had a strong bond in their partnership, much like Wesley and Aveline had last year, except that Rafael did not plan on letting himself get killed in the bloodbath the way Wesley had.

Soon they were done though, and the tributes dispersed to spend their last night alive in comfort. Tomorrow was the arena.

Ava joined Rafael and Monica in the elevator, heading up to the 12th floor.

"Well, how did we do?" Monica grinned at the tiny mentor.

"I liked it," Ava nodded simply, "I don't think the comparisons were necessary though. Your battles and mine are completely different. No tribute or victor ever faces the same horrors."

"We didn't mean to belittle your brother," Rafael admitted, "Just that we didn't want that to happen o District 12 again."  
"I know," Ava sighed, "It's a wound that'll never heal for me though… it's also why you shouldn't say anything about Iris to me." Ava's fists clenched when she herself said the name, and thankfully Rafael and Monica did not expand upon it.

When they got off the elevator, they were greeted by their escort Junichi, who recommended that they grab a bit to eat and then sleep soon—it would be the last sleep they'd properly get till the games were over and only one tribute remained as victor. As they did this, Ava pulled Junichi aside.

"Something about them rubs me the wrong way," she muttered to the older woman.

"I think I've noticed it," Junichi nodded, "but bear with them… they are about to go to what very well could be their deaths."  
"I know," Ava indicated, "maybe I'm just tired too or something."

"Well," Junichi reassured her, "I haven't forgotten about you Ava. You're still the same friend that you were last year—only perhaps moreso now."

"Thanks, Jun," Ava smiled. Simple as it was, that was enough for her.

Marcus, Amy, and Clove were already back in their apartments by this time watching recaps. Most of the tributes this year that had scored higher than an 8 seemed to be pretty popular with the audiences and seemed fairly confident themselves.

"Welp, this is it," Clove told them, standing behind the couch they were sitting on as the rewatched the interviews, "tomorrow you two get carted off with 22 others to duke it out till there's only one of you left standing. How do you feel?"

"Confident," Marcus smirked, "they did not give me that 12 for no reason. I might not be invincible, but I can at least control the situation at the cornucopia unless our career alliance fractures before the games even begin."

"I don't think it will, and I'm the skeptic," Amy quipped, "District 1 is definitely still on our side, and District 3 is either going to stick with us or they're gonna be the first to die."

Marcus laughed. "A sound philosophy indeed it seems," he messed up Amy's hair, causing the tiny girl to squeak and then growl at him.  
"I liked that style! Now I'll never see it again." She pouted dramatically."

"The way you two bicker, someone's going to talk," Clove quipped, "I haven't seen that kind of affection between tributes since my own partner Cato some 18 years ago… damn time flies."

"You've never been terribly open about your games," Amy pointed out, "not to us anyways. Was there something that happened that you didn't like talking about?"  
"Nah, you just didn't ask to see 'em," Clove shrugged, "we had a good run. I turned on Cato after we were the only two left—he nearly got me too."

"Who gave you the most trouble?" Amy spoke up again, "your year I mean."

"District 11," she answered without hesitation, "District 12 was also something of a handful though. Then of course, that Katniss girl won the very next year and began District 12's road to redemption. It's nothing that we can't handle though. we've had 3 victors in the last 20 years, and another dozen victors before that. So hopefully one of you can win it and become Victor #16, eh?"

"I'll do that," Amy 'volunteered'. "And then bring home Victor #17 for the 93rd Hunger Games."  
"And you, Marcus?" Clove was almost curious as to how Marcus would react to Amy's remark.

"I'll do the same… a backup plan, if you will… or is she my backup plan?" he chuckled.

"Get some sleep," Clove laughed, "I'll see you two tomorrow morning…"  
With that abrupt ending to the conversation, Amy nodded in agreement. "See ya tomorrow, Marcus. And may the odds be ever in our favor…"

Marcus chuckled, ruffling Amy's hair. "indeed... goodnight."

Both tributes were asleep within minutes of hitting their beds.


	13. Chapter 13: The Bloodbath

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _A slightly late chapter, because I decided that I was going to update this fic on every even-numbered day of the month instead of just every other day. Anyways, this is the part you've all been waiting for, and so I feel it needs little introduction. Let the 92nd Annual Hunger Games begin!_  
_Happy reading!_

**PART II: THE GAMES**

**CHAPTER 13: The Bloodbath**

Marcus and Amy woke up the next morning to find a pile of folded clothes on the foot of their large and extravagant beds. They were black like the training center uniforms, except with grey hems. It was very similar to the outfits the year before: elbow-length, fingerless plated gloves, a dark grey T-shirt with bands around the biceps that had the tribute's district number, black pants, black combat boots, and a silver-colored belt. The only difference was that there was also a light jacket to put over the T-shirt—a possible indicator of colder weather this year in the arena? The jacket also had the bands around the arms to show the tribute's district number.

Amy and Clove said little over breakfast, though Marcus cracked the old tribute mantra.

"May the odds make it true that when you're mortally wounded in an excruciatingly painful way, that your body goes into shock and you don't feel anything as you die…"

It caused Amy to crack a smirk, and Clove to chuckle.

"Kick ass out there," Clove told them, "and if you can't, then get the hell out of there. It's better to die unknown than to die in infamy. No one would ever forget the shame of being a perfect scoring tribute from Panem's strongest district that died in the bloodbath."

"Oh ye of little faith," Marcus rolled his eyes, "Clove, if I get anything less than 5th you're welcome to spit on my grave."

"If I get anything less than 1st you're welcome to do the same, Clove," Amy retorted.

"Heh," Clove emptied a flask into her mouth, "You two have got what it takes."

Misaha and Zakuya were nowhere to be found, but even Delun was gushing over "his favorite tributes" as the Peacekeepers came to collect them. They were gentler than they might have been on other floors, since some tributes had supposed once tried to make a run for it. It did not end well. District 2 though? They volunteered, so were not likely to run from it.

They were naturally escorted to a hovercraft, which took off after the 24 tributes were seated. The lower scoring ones looked a bit nervous, while the higher-scoring tributes from the likes of Districts 1, 2, and 3 were pumped and confident. Districts 12 and 11 seemed equally confident, which in turn worried Amy. That Monica girl from District 12 was her biggest concern at the moment. Hopefully it was just a premonition and nothing based in reality though—for she had not even told Marcus.

Whatever the case, the Peacekeepers came and shot a tracker through every tribute's right arm (through the gloves even). It didn't hurt at all, let alone draw any blood.

The trip did not seem to last very long, and soon the tributes were all escorted to the underground catacombs where they would get a few last words with their stylists before they entered the glass tubes that would take all but one of them to their deaths.

Marcus and Amy found themselves in different rooms, facing Zakuya and Misaha respectively.

"I know you two don't talk," Marcus smiled at Zakuya, who handed him his tribute token—that ornately carved stone, "but I'm glad for what you've done. Wish us luck!"  
With a smile, Zakuya waved as Marcus stepped into the glass tube which slowly carried him upwards after sealing around him. A few rooms over, Amy was experiencing the same thing, except for it was Misaha, and she had pinned Amy's earrings onto her ears.

The arena was definitely odd—they seemed to be in a clearing surrounded by large hedged walls. Marcus and Amy both glanced around, first meeting each other on nearly opposite sides of the semicircle surrounding the cornucopia, but secondly, noticing that there were several different paths that led away from the cornucopia clearing.

Marcus eyed the cornucopia and its supplies, and it seemed a bit more standard fare except for these odd yellow jars. He was eyeing the heavy weapons, while he noticed Amy scanning it for throwing knives. Well, those seemed to be everywhere, though luckily for Marcus there was no shortage of large weapons either.

A moment later, the tributes heard the infamous announcement that was literally a countdown to some of their deaths.

_"Sixty… Fifty-Nine… Fifty-Eight…"_

Marcus stretched and cracked his knuckles. There was no way he was going to die in these opening seconds. He might be responsible for the deaths of some of these others, but that was just the name of the game. It was not like he delighted in killing, but he was willing to do what he had to do in hopes that he would emerge as the victor.

_"Nineteen… Eighteen… Seventeen…"_

In less than 60 seconds, it was fully possible that one or more of these children standing poised to start dashing, would be dead in their own blood. Marcus glanced at Amy, catching her eyes and smirking. She grinned back, cracking her knuckles.

Adrenaline was rushing and hearts were pounding. The day of reckoning was upon them and the time for action had finally come…

_"Three… Two… One…"_

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Amy was the first one to reach a weapon, and to the dismay of some of the others, it was a set of throwing knives. Wasting no time after picking them up, she immediately whirled around and threw a knife so hard at that District 10 boy that it nearly decapitated him. He was certainly not getting back up. Marcus soon diverted the course of a small boy from District 5 by swiping up and axe and putting it through the chest of the boy from District 9. His partner, however, was shot by an arrow from Cherry, the girl from District 11. Those kids meant business this year.

Amy scored her 2nd kill a moment later when she knifed Draco from District 4, and surprisingly, that District 8 girl ended up dropping the boy from District 7.

The careers were not about to give up in the bloodbath though. Marcus took a swing at the girl from District 10, but she instead took a spear to her chest from Rafael of District 12. Marcus thus instantly diverted his course and took out a District 6 boy.

The bloodbath was starting to wind down, although Charm and Luster, who were being assisted by Shaft from District 3, were trying to fight off the strong District 11 pair, who had looted some rather appealing supplies from the cornucopia. Amy noticed that Monica was nowhere to be seen, but there were still a few tributes that were trying to grab supplies.

Well, unfortunately for them, that didn't exactly pan out well for them, and the two tributes in question—Hotaru from District 7 and Amanda from District 4—got offed by Amy and Asher respectively.

The bloodbath was not quite over yet. Dante from District 11 took out District 5's Kairi Osega with a well-thrown axe, and suddenly the outlying tributes from Districts 11, 8, and 12 took off in a very coordinated pattern in three different directions, disappearing into the hedge. Marcus and Amy races after them, but they realized at once what kind of sinister arena this was after running past the first row of tall hedges.

The arena was a gigantic maze.

One might have thought that it would be enough to track down the other tributes, but it did not seem to be a maze full of dead-ends, but rather, of walls that one could go around this way or that, almost like a game of Pac-Man.

"Let's fall back," Marcus suggested, "Control the cornucopia and we can scout out the place after we realize what we've got with us. We can strategize from there."  
Amy nodded in agreement, glad that Marcus wasn't trying to make a stupid joke when they were now in the arena fighting for their lives;

They returned and luckily found Charm, Luster, Shaft, and Asher all still there pulling the supplies together and away from the dead tribute bodies.

"There you are," Luster smirked, "Did you get any stragglers?"  
"Nope," Amy shrugged, "but we are pretty sure we have an idea of the arena now…"  
she spent a few moments explaining it to the others, who had not gone in and ventured past the cornucopia clearing just yet.

"A maze," Shaft tilted his head, "an interesting concept. The only thing I was wondering about was what was in those yellow jars. the kids from '11 took most of them, and I think '12 got the rest."

"What else do we have in terms of supplies?" Amy asked,  
"Standard fare," Asher shrugged, "weapons, crates of food, sleeping bags, first-aid kits, and the usual deal. I wonder what that maze is hiding though.  
"Well, apparently there are Night Witches, and there is honey." Amy quipped, and the others began an exchange before they realized that they had all heard the same words from Gamemaker Zurok.

"Still," Amy continued, "Let's get comfortable—no point in hunting tributes on the first day after the Capitol's had their dose of action for a while." She motioned towards the dead bodies of the other tributes that had been killed in the opening minutes. Seeing them made this feel so much more real.

The 92nd Annual Hunger Games had begun.


	14. Chapter 14: The Night Witches

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _And we finally learn a bit more about the Night Witches and who/what they are. We also get to discover a bit more of the arena, and how Shaft and Amy get along despite their differences. Here the careers also meet their first real enemy, and we learned who died. _  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 14: The Night Witches**

Within a couple of hours, the commotion in the arena had fallen into silence as the tributes navigated the arena to find a place to settle down. The career pack—Districts 1, 2, and 3—controlled the cornucopia, where they armed themselves with weapons of choice, kept others close by, and guarded their supplies, otherwise amusing themselves by sparring with each other or cracking jokes or whatever else a tribute could do in a death arena.

The afternoon wore on, and at one point, Shaft and Amy volunteered to explore more of the maze and try to map it out. Since they were the smallest career tributes, the others were fine with waiting behind and guarding the cornucopia. Stealth was definitely on Amy's side.

There was little to remark about in the arena for a while, except that eventually the grassy ground faded as they explored in a northwest direction, and the terrain instead became more rock. The hedge maze walls seemed to remain though Amy was fairly certain that some of it was not natural, given that it appeared to be "Growing" out of solid rock, and in some cases, right out of the water. The maze did seem fairly uniform; with 90-degree turns at what they assumed was north, south, east, or west. The corridors were about 10-15 feet wide, and both of the young tributes were fairly surprised at how orderly it all was.

"It seems too convenient," Amy noted as Shaft sketched the maze on a piece of paper. "we've got these hedge walls that seem to just be out of place in an otherwise fairly ordinary landscape. Sure it makes sense to have hedges on the ground, and maybe out of solid rock, but what the heck's up with the ones in the water here?"

"I reckon that would depend on how deep the water is." Shaft suggested, "Want to go find out?"  
Amy held out her fist to indicate they should play rock-paper-scissors to find out, but this proved to be a mistake, for she lost.

"Fine," she growled, removing her shoes and socks, and leaving her throwing knives with them, "I'll take a dip and find out…" she dipped just her big toe in at first, and after discovering that it did not in fact start eating her skin, she hitched up her pants a bit and waded a little further in. A second later, she sunk, and Shaft gasped. Amy popped up a second later, however, sputtering.

"I guess that's what I get for not looking down," she shook hair out of her face, "it drops off right around here and becomes at least 5 feet deep… my puny little 4'10" ass can't touch the bottom."

"Surely you can swim though," Shaft suggested, "or does District 3 finally have something over District 2 for the first time in history?"

"Of course I can," Amy shook her head, "I'm gonna go under and see if the hedges go under the water."

With a nod, Shaft watched as Amy disappeared below the surface of the water. The hedges were consistent all the way down, and the water was about 10 feet deep at its deepest point. The water was surprisingly clear, although what Amy saw under there made her jump. Through the thick of the hedge, she saw something glowing red that almost looked like eyes. Worse yet, when she surfaced, there were those eyes peeking through at her from the sparse "holes" in the hedges.

"There's something on the other side of that wall," she warned instantly, and Shaft looked puzzled.

"Where? I can't even see anything through these hedges." He tilted his head, pulling the soaking wet Amy out of the water.

"It's glaring at me," Amy pointed, and Shaft followed her line of sight till he saw the glints of red through the hedges that Amy saw. Amy picked up her knives and slashed at the hedge, but it was unwavering. The Gamemakers didn't seem to want the tributes to be able to destroy the walls.

"Here's the plan," She suggested, outing her gloved hands together, "let me see that map—we need to find the quickest way around whatever that thing is, and to get back to the cornucopia."  
Shaft and Amy put their heads together and analyzed their map before taking off in the appropriate direction as to not draw attention of whatever red-eyed thing was lurking around the corner of that maze. Thankfully, they managed to get all the way back to the cornucopia without incident.

Needless to say, they were curious as to why Amy was soaking wet and barefooted. Marcus ruffled her hair, and Amy responded by flipping it and splashing him with water droplets. She and Shaft then proceeded to explain what they had, showing the others the map that Shaft had drawn while he and Amy had explored.

"It's far from complete," the boy nodded, "but it should do us some favors over the next couple of days. In the meantime, I say we rest."

The others had been mostly doing that and organizing the supplies while Amy and Shaft had been scouring out the maze, and thus the career pack fell silent as evening came upon them and the anthem played as it did every night.

Naturally, Charm, Luster, Amy, Marcus, Asher, and Shaft were all gazing towards the heavens as the faces of the dead tributes began to show up. They showed up based on the order they were slain in nowadays, and so at the moment Marcus and Amy were watching closely, because they had made a bet on who would be the first one to die.

_Humberto Morrel, District 10…_

"I told you he'd die first," Marcus chuckled.

"No shit," Amy retorted without even skipping a beat, "I killed him."

_Husk Levan, District 9…_

_Petrice Hoffman, District 9…_

"This happened last year," Asher quipped, "except the boy from '10 died AFTER the kids from '9 instead of before. Still… that's a pretty shitty record to have, isn't it?"

_Draco VanHelen, District 4…_

"Cress did better," Amy quipped, "Though I didn't see Monica killing anyone…"

_Arato Redwood, District 7…_

_Lizzie Mack, District 10…_

_Axle Tikani, District 6…_

"It's just the same old fodder at this point," Marcus shrugged, "It'd be funny to see a name from District 1, 2 or 3 up there because that would mean there was a mishap with the trackers."

_Amanda Stanton, District 4…  
_"I can see it now…" Amy laughed, "you end up Winning the games, Marcus; and I end up surviving because the accidentally reprogrammed my tracker. That'd make history, let me tell ya."

_Hotaru Lee, District 7…_

"Don't count it out," Marcus ruffled Amy's hair.

_Kairi Osega, District 5…_

"Your optimism will singlehandedly hold morale up, Marcus," Amy laughed. "fine, you win this one. So 10 kids died in the bloodbath this year. That's 1 more than died last year."

"Well," Asher noted, "if we can off Spark and Erika from Districts 5 and 6 respectively, then it will be a battle of the two alliances: 1, 2, &amp; 3 against 8, 11, &amp; 12."

"Then it seems we have our targets, don't we?" Luster quipped, "Tomorrow we'll go forge new frontiers, and go look for Night Witches, whatever those freaking things are."

"It probably has to do with the honey," Amy suggested, "but first we'd have to find out where to get some honey, and then learn what Night Witches are. In the meantime, let's get some sleep…"

And so they did—at least for a little while. Marcus was woken up by a hiss which caused him to yell loudly. In front of them were several humanoid creatures clad in black clothing, with claws on their feet and hands instead of fingernails and toenails. Their eyes were read, their ears were pointed, and they had mouthfuls of fangs. They resembled that Katniss-shaped creature from the 91st Hunger Games, except that they resembled other past victors, all of whom were female.

Marcus' yell woke up the careers, who snatched up their weapons immediately. However, they recognized some of these monsters—There was one that resembled Johanna Mason, a District 7 victor from the 71st Annual Hunger Games, and there were two more that resembled Ikki Ortolani and Nailah Zoraki, who won the 77th and 79th Hunger Games respectively, as well as one that resembled the 74th Hunger Games Victor, Clove. It did not help that all of them were wielding a pair of wicked-looking long crescent blades. There was also something sticky on their faces, but no one was paying attention to that.

"I think I know what Night Witches are now," Amy grunted. A second later, they attacked, lacerating Districts 1, 2, and 3 with some notable injuries and causing them to fall back. To make matters worse, the Night Witches cut through their alliance, forcing them to split up. Marcus and Amy were fortunate enough to go down the same path as each other, but they had no accounting for the others. Were the Night Witches going to rule the cornucopia?  
No; Amy and Marcus would not allow it… but first they had to rest and relax. if their alliance was dead or mortally wounded, they would have been able to hear it.

All they knew right now though is they were alive… for now.


	15. Chapter 15: Nature of the Beasts

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _There is more to the Night Witches than meets the eye, as Amy and Marcus are about to find out. There's no telling where the other tributes are at the moment either, but you can be certain that Amy and Marcus will be on the prowl till they get tired._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 15: Nature of the Beasts**

There was no sign of Shaft and Asher, or even of Charm and Luster. Amy was alone in the dark winding labyrinth, armed only with whatever weapons she had had on her person, and whatever her backpack had contained. Her clothes were still damp as well. She pushed herself up and realized that she was lying on the ground.

"Hello?" she called out, figuring that she was armed and if it attracted attention, then there would be a fight. There had to be at least a few more hours till dawn given that it was still pitch black outside, with only the dim light of the moon and stars illuminating anything.

And yet, after Amy's eyes focused, and her ears stopped ringing, he heard some soft snoring. Groping her way around, and she found a rather large body which was still warm. Further investigations made Amy heave the largest sigh of relief she had ever heaved—it was Marcus. As much as she bickered at him before the games, she was comforted by his presence.

The massive boy groaned, stirring a bit before chuckling softly and coughing.

"Heh… did we just run until we passed out?" he grunted, a smile on his face. Typical Marcus—he always had something to joke about it seemed.

"I guess so," Amy shrugged, "I don't know where the others went though—it's just us till we find them."

"I think we can manage," Marcus quipped, groaning and pulling himself to his feet, "Let's get somewhere safer, like a corner or something. There's no point in having District 12 or the Night Witches come and kill us from both sides, is there?"

After about another hour of navigating the maze in near darkness, Marcus and Amy found a corridor with a nice corner that they could nestle into. It was also near a nice source of water, which meant they could make it their base of operations for a while.

The next morning, after sleeping in, the arena was still quiet. There were no cannons, no tributes barreling through the maze, no Night Witches or other mutts coming for their flesh. Now that they actually had some daylight, Amy decided to investigate her backpack. Both she and Marcus seemed to have gotten larger and heavier ones, probably due to them being snagged from the mouth of the cornucopia before the Night Witches had raided them.

Inside she found (much to her joy) more throwing knives, a bottle of water, a first-aid pack with a certain salve that she recognized as usually only being a sponsor gift, and one of those yellow jars that she had seen at the cornucopia. Marcus rummaged through his pack and found rope, a couple of water bottles, a towel, and a collapsible shovel. Amy opened the yellow jar to reveal…

"Honey," Marcus tilted his head curiously as Amy looked at the jar of yellow liquid in Amy's hand. It was thick but definitely looked like the kind one could glaze over a treat.

"I'm keeping it—Zurok did this on purpose," Amy insisted, "I'm willing to bet the shirt off my back that it has something to do with those creatures that attacked us last night."

"That's an interesting wager," Marcus joked, "alas, if only you were a couple years older…"

"Is that supposed to be a joke about my size again?" Amy's face lengthened, "Marcus, you ass."

"Good to see you laughing again," Marcus ruffled the tiny girl's hair. "no point in losing hope when there are still 14 tributes out on the prowl. We've got at least a dozen of 'em that we need to off before we start worrying."

"Fine, you got me, Amy laughed, "but that does leave a valid question to ask—do we go on the prowl for the other tributes, or do we try to find District 1 and District 3?"

"You're the tactician, remember?" Marcus reminded her, "I'm just the big dumb muscle. Give me an order and I'll follow it."  
"Punch yourself in the face." Amy smirked.

"Nice try, kiddo," Marcus got her in a headlock, grinding his knuckles into her scalp, "but seriously—which one did you want to go for?"

"Let's find our friends," Amy remarked, "the cornucopia is ours, and so if Monica or any of them are controlling it instead of us, they've got a date with death that I seek to help them arrange."

"Did you grab that map?" Marcus asked, remembering the map that Amy and Shaft had helped make.

"I did," the tiny girl replied, "but I dunno where it is in relation to… wait, hold on…"

She knew that she and Marcus had run north from the cornucopia, but apparently they had also gone a bit west as well given that she would have tried going down paths that she recognized.

"I know where we are!" Amy grinned excitedly, "follow me, you big lunk!"

They began racing back to the cornucopia, before suddenly Amy froze. In front of them, about 25 feet off, was another Night Witch, this one resembling…

"Clove," Amy's eyes narrowed, "Well shit… I never thought I'd be killing my own mentor here…"

"How about that honey?" Marcus reminded her, "Shall we see what it does to them?"

Amy grinned. "Marcus, you're a genius; a big huge stupid genius!"

"And you're the mother of all oxymorons…" he dug his knuckles into her head again to make her growl. If he had to deal with her smacktalking, she had to deal with his 'physical abuse'.

"I love you too," Amy grunted, "now geroff me so I can get that honey out…"

She rummaged through her pack before finding the jar. She whistled loudly, and sure enough, the Clove Night Witch scampered towards them on all fours. On its back were a wicked pair of crescent-shaped blades, which meant that it knew how to use them.

Amy dipped her fingers into the jar before lobbing it. It shattered against the creature's forehead, and the creature froze for a moment, before it began to lick its lips. Zurok's words were literal. The Night Witches were attracted to honey.

Moments later, it was licking the honey off of Amy's fingers, much to the tiny girl's surprise and slight shock. She didn't care move, not wanting to provoke the creature.

"What *are* you?" Amy tilted her head at the monster, which glanced up at the, and nipped at Amy's finger. The tiny girl flinched—the Night Witch had sharp teeth.

The creature could not speak, but did make a few clicking noises with its mouth before purring.

"Don't get too attached, Amy," Marcus warned, "It's not Clove, nor is it human."  
"I know…" Amy was scratching its head, "It's almost like a dog—pet it and it behaves. Or I suppose in this case, feed it honey."

"So we're just going to take it with us?" Marcus tilted his head.

"If we can use it as a pawn, I'm all for it." She stated, though drew a knife in case the creature understood them. However, the red-eyed, pointy-eared Clove mutt did not react.

"Did you hear that?" Amy looked it right in the eyes, "You're just a stupid, worthless pawn that I'm going to kill off the first chance I get. You're going to DIE!"

The creature just clicked its tongue before trying to wipe the honey off of its face with its hand.

"We need more honey," Amy nodded, giving Marcus a look that practically said 'I told you she wasn't dangerous' in reference to the Night Witch.

Thanks to Amy's map, they managed to get back to the cornucopia except that they stopped only when it came into view. There were five other Night Witches patrolling the area, and no sign of any actual other tributes. The Night Witches in question resembled Bethany Shanza, a District 5 girl who won the 69th Hunger Games, Annie Cresta from District 4, winner of the 70th Hunger Games, and the ones resembling Johanna, Ikki, and Nailah that they had run into the previous night.

"Hey," Amy took the creature's clawed hand, pointing. If it didn't understand language, hopefully it could understand gestures. Amy pointed at the others, and without wasting a second, the creature took off. Instead of killing them however, it simply grabbed a jar of honey returning to Marcus and Amy, holding it in front of them.

"She wants you to open it, Marcus," Amy quipped. Marcus instead simply slammed it against the creature's forehead, letting its face drop with more honey.

"But if you attract more Night Witches with honey…" Marcus began, and almost as if they had waited for the boy to have that revelation, all five of the Night Witches at the cornucopia turned to face the District 2 pair and their lone Night Witch.

"I think I know exactly what you mean," Amy nodded. If these were tributes, she might have stayed and fought, but there was no victory to be had in killing Capitol mutts.

"And so with that in mind, I think it's time we RUNNNNNNN!"

And so they did just that, disappearing back into the maze, the Clove mutt with honey all over its face following them, with the others in hot pursuit.


	16. Chapter 16: Madness of the Maze

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**_ Let it not be said that the careers aren't human. Marcus and Amy might have to eventually turn on each other, but let it not be said that at the moment they are still very good friends and allies. Someone does also die in this chapter, and we learn more of this intriguing arena._  
_Also, I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 16: Madness of the Maze**

"They've got an edge that is really driving me crazy," Amy shook her head after they had stopped and the smaller girl had sat down to catch her breath. Apparently they had lost the other Night Witches in the process, but it made her wonder something. The Clove-mutt that they had run into was still following them… so either their intelligence had been modified since the last games, or maybe that Katniss-creature had been a prototype.

"But you want to know what I noticed?" she added after a moment as Marcus sat down to catch his breath as well. Their little Night Witch partner looked curiously at them, and was trying to open a jar of honey that it had apparently snatched from the cornucopia during their recent encounter.

"That they run the cornucopia as if they are tributes," Marcus pointed out,

"That too," Amy shook her head, "but they seem to follow orders from whoever gives them honey… they might not understand language, thank goodness, but they can understand signs and gestures. I'm getting this impression that there are tributes at that cornucopia commanding them while hiding themselves. It's bloody cowardly, but also smart."

"I bet it's Monica," Marcus suggested, "maybe Rafael too… but something tells me that they're not all sticking together. There were too many Night Witches and not enough tributes."

"Well, we need to find the tributes then," Amy suggested, "but first we take the offensive. We can't be running like little bitches when there are still a dozen other tributes out there weaker than us. Besides… maybe we'll run into Shaft and Asher."

"And what about Charm and Luster," Marcus quipped as he grabbed his weapons and prepared to move out again, "or were you hoping they'd get offed before then?"

"Well, if you're asking me, I'd much rather have District 3 on our sides this year…" Amy quipped, "hopefully they've already invented some kind of control system for these Night Witches… probably powered by honey or something."

"A tribute can dream," Marcus quipped as they got moving, "speaking of which—I'm not sure how we expect to find anything in this maze, let alone if we didn't have that map."

"Well hopefully Shaft hasn't given anyone else any ideas then," Amy indicated, "because we need at least some edge. This game will otherwise be a huge game of cat and mouse… and no one wants another episode of that."

"A fair point," Marcus nodded, and the hunt began.

As they ran, a cannon went off, causing them to stop. It was also around this time that she realized that their little Night Witch friend was nowhere to be seen.

"Stay on your guard," she warned the gigantic boy, "there's no telling where that thing went."

The farther out from the center of the maze they went though, the weirder things became. The hedges persisted, but the terrain became rockier and began to ascend. Luckily they had found a water source before trekking into this mountainous area, because soon they felt it also getting rather hot despite the sun beginning to set.

"How're your feet?" Marcus asked the tiny girl, whose shoes had been lost the previous day.

"Warm, Amy admitted, "but that's just the rock. I'm not about to get burned here or anything…"

They continued walking though, and soon Amy was hopping lightly on her toes. Marcus noticed this.

"I'm fine," Amy insisted, before sitting down on a warm rock to massage her hot feet.

"You just don't want to be carried," Marcus chuckled, "The rocks are hot, and I figure we're getting close to finding out why."

"You think it's some sort of underground volcano or something?" Amy asked, wondering how the hedges could remain so intact in this heat.

"That's exactly what I think it is," Marcus warned, "so tread carefully."

When Amy hopped back off the rock though, the ground had already heated up significantly more, and she flinched, losing her footing.

"The rocks are getting hotter where we're standing!" Amy cried out, "This thing is going to blow!"

Marcus seemed slightly skeptical for a moment—not that he did not trust Amy, but he could not believe that the Gamemakers would do something like this only on day 2. Perhaps they were getting too close to the edge of the arena.

"Marcus," Amy pleaded, "please don't mock me—but I need you to carry me! I'm going to burn my feet if I stay on these rocks too much more." Her pants and gloves seemed to be holding out just fine on the other hand, even if she was uncomfortably warm.

Without so much as a tease or even a ruffle of the smaller girl's hair, Marcus swung Amy up onto his shoulders and took off back down through the maze as a rumbling happened beneath their feet. A second later, the ground began cracking right between the walls of the hedge, and sure enough, there was lava beneath them.

"HOLY SHIT!" Marcus yelped, and began hauling it down the slopes as best he could. Amy clung tightly to him, for he was unable to let her down at this point. She did cling to him with one arm, while her other arm pulled out a throwing knife just in case she needed to strike something. Luckily, nothing else showed up, and soon the rocks and lava were left far behind as Marcus practically plowed right into a watery corridor, submerging himself and Amy, fully dressed and all.

Eventually, they crawled out, and made camp at the water's edge, lighting a fire (perhaps ironically) and everything, cooking what little cornucopia food they had left. Amy was sitting on the edge of the water, her feet and calves dipped into the cool, refreshing liquid.

"This arena is messed up," Amy grunted as Marcus cooked some soup over their little fire.

"That's putting it lightly" Marcus chuckled, stirring the pot, "at least we know to avoid the northwest corner. I'm starting to think that the others are in the south end."  
"I'm thinking that the other careers might have gone east, actually," Amy suggested, "We were chased from the south by those witches. I think tomorrow we need to go east and hope that District 1 and District 3 united or something. Hopefully that cannon earlier was not one of them."  
Speaking of the cannon, it was not long before the anthem began to play, and the face of the dead tribute showed up in the sky.

_Erika Chandni, District 6…_

"So the two alliances remain," Amy noted, "that just leaves Spark Tracey from District 5 on his lonesome. Any bets that he'll be the next one to go?"

"I think we could arrange it, if that's what you're saying," Marcus quipped, "We were both right about Humberto after all."

The two career tributes sat down and ate the soup though as they waited for the night to pass.

"This whole thing still seems so weird," Marcus pointed out, "the maze just seems… strange—as if it was put over an otherwise normal arena just to throw tributes off. The volcano part was a bit unexpected though. I don't even know what to say to that one."  
"It's keeping tributes on their toes," Amy agreed, "and those Night Witches throw a wrench into the system. I'm still not exactly willing to trust them obviously, since human or not, they are still just Capitol mutts. It's good to know that Zurok tipped us off about the honey thing."  
"Well of course," Marcus chuckled, "The Capitol needs their victor. They're not about to let us all die—just 23 of us."

"Indeed," Amy chuckled, before turning towards her larger companion, looking him right in the eyes.

"Marcus?" she asked, sounding softer than she had a moment ago.

"What's up," the larger boy smirked, "Need more soup?"  
"I wouldn't mind some, aye," Amy chuckled, "but no… mostly, I just wanted to say… thank you. Thanks for saving me back there."  
"I might not be a Chel Colorado, but I'm not about to lose a good friend and ally this early into the games…" Marcus reassured her, "say what you will about my manhandling you, but if I can't win these games, Amy, I want you to."  
Amy laughed. "well, I'd hope so… cuz I want you to win if I die."

"We've got each other's backs then," Marcus smirked, ruffling Amy's hair and pulling her onto his lap. This time Amy simply accepted it.

"I wouldn't have saved just anyone," Marcus reassured her, "But you, Amy… I like you. I respect you big time for volunteering at your age, but also because sometimes, this big stupid lunk needs a good set of wits to help him know which way to point his sword."  
Amy laughed, "Marcus you're a goofball…"  
"Welcome to District 2 then, huh," he joked, cuddling her as they prepared to sleep for the night, "are we going to go hunting for tributes tomorrow?"

"of course," Amy smiled, snuggling in her partner's embrace and getting comfortable, "All the more reason to sleep though… so aye; goodnight, Marcus."

"Goodnight, Amy," Marcus replied, closing his eyes as well. Soon, both tributes were again asleep.


	17. Chapter 17: Death on Day 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _The action picks up a bit from here as we get to meet more of the other tributes again. Obviously the Names such as Clove and Johanna are referring to their Night Witch lookalikes rather than the actual characters.. but there are plenty of questions worth asking in this chapter._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 17: Death on Day 5**

Days 3 and 4 of the 92nd Annual Hunger Games passed without incident, other than Marcus and Amy starting to doubt that they would ever find anyone in this maze. They did find their little Night Witch friend resembling Clove, and did have encounters with a few more as well one that resembled Bethany Shanza, a District 5 victor from the 69th Hunger Games; Annie Cresta, a District 4 victor from the 70th Hunger Games, Zenzi Tallarico, a District 11 Victor from the 80th Hunger Games, and another creature resembling Katniss, very similar to the one Ava and Chel encountered during the 91st Hunger Games.

While they had no success in finding other tributes at all, they had mapped out a lot of the arena, and had managed to stave off those Night Witches.

They had also found that certain parts of the maze had Tracker-Jacker nests, and that they had honey. At one point, Amy had managed to command one of the Night Witches to attack the next to dispatch it. Miraculously, they got out of it unharmed, as the insects did not seem to affect the Night Witch at all.

"That really shouldn't have worked," Marcus laughed when all was said and done.

"Apparently Capitol weapons are immune to each other," Amy quipped, "Look, it's eating those tracker-jackers, venom and all."

Sure enough, even though the creature was probably pumped full of enough tracker-jacker venom to kill hundreds of normal people, its skin didn't even swell up. It almost gave the District 2 pair a smile as it dug into the nest, eating the honey which was ironically present.

"I still don't know about those things," Amy shook her head as she and Marcus went back to their daily task of navigating the maze, hoping to find a tribute for the first time in three days, "if we can control them, then surely the Capitol can too. If the Capitol doesn't get some action in the next couple of days, they'll probably turn these creatures on us."

"That's why I'm worried for whatever bastards are controlling Johanna, Ikki, and Nailah at the cornucopia," Marcus smirked, referring to the Night Witches based on what victors they resembled, rather than the actual victors. "Clove is just one Night Witch—we can handle her."

The odd part about that creature was that it didn't follow them everywhere, but seemed to show up any time that Amy or Marcus whistled a very particular way. It made Marcus and Amy keep their wits about them, but they did not panic.

Towards the afternoon, they heard voices, causing them to freeze.

"I'll run ahead and scout it," Amy whispered to Marcus, "no offense big guy, but stealth isn't exactly your thing."

"None taken," he chuckled, "size isn't exactly yours…"

"Shut up," Amy punched the larger boy's chest, "I'll be back in just a few moments."  
Amy scampered down one of the corridors, peering around the corner. He saw four tributes, all of which she recognized. This was good enough for her. What worried her though, was that she heard a rustling noise and then a cannon, right from the direction where Marcus had been.

"MARCUS!" had something gotten him? Did her gigantic and powerful district partner get offed so quickly into the games?

But instead, she found the gigantic boy cleaning off his sword, and in front of him was that Spark Tracey lying motionless on his back, his weapon still in his hand

"Who'd you find," he asked as if killing that District 5 boy had been an everyday thing

"No, you tell me what happened first," Amy demanded.

"He jumped out at me, and so I offed him," Marcus shrugged, 'sheathing' his two-handed sword by putting it back in the straps on his back. "It's the name of the game, kiddo."

"That's all I needed to know," Amy shook her head, "anyways, let's go say hi to our old allies—District 1 and District 3 are up there."  
"And if they decided we're not allies anymore?" Marcus suggested,

"Then they're just more Night Witches," Amy nodded, "I'm sure they don't want Monica to win any more than you or I do though."

"Just seeing if you're on the same page as I am," Marcus quipped, "I'm right behind ya, kid."

"Hey, hey!" Shaft opened his arms once he saw the District2 pair approaching. It was pretty easy to tell it was them given that Marcus was enormous and Amy was time.

"Look who it is," the boy continued, "I'd say that we thought you died, except that we didn't see your faces in the sky. You have any idea who just bit the dust though?"

"Spark, District 5," Marcus bumped fists with Shaft, "It seems we're down to two factions now, doesn't it? We've got us, and then Districts 8, 11, and 12."

"We don't know where '11 went," Luster pointed out, "but District 12 nearly got us good,"  
Amy and Marcus looked and noticed that Asher's right arm was bound and that she had a pair of slash marks across her cheek.

"eesh, what did she do to ya," Amy tilted her head.

"Monica," Asher grunted, "I can see why her last name is 'Savage'."

Of course, that was more just a coincidence, but Asher went onto describe the girl from District 12 as being a 'knife-wielding psychopath' who also specialized in poison.

"In fine, I don't know how she only got a 10," Asher shook her head, "Maybe that was her holding back or something, but it's a good thing we got sponsored some antivenom otherwise she would have gotten us all." She brandished a container of Capitol medicine as she said this.

"Tell us everything," Amy requested, "and we'll tell you what we ran into…"

"Why let them tell you," said a voice from behind them, "when I can explain it easily enough right here." The Career pack spun around to see Monica standing there alone, twirling a pair of knives in her hands. Amy did not even waste a moment to respond, and whipped out a throwing knife, lobbing it straight for Monica's forehead. A cling of metal was heard as Monica crossed her blades and intercepted the knife mere inches from her forehead.

"But wait," the District 12 girl cooed, using her crossed blades to fling the knife back at them, but luckily Charm stopped it from hitting anyone by deflecting it as well. "There are six of you and only one of me… that doesn't seem like a fair fight now, does it? It's a good thing you have friends, or I'd have offed you the same way Erika Chandni died."

"Then run for your wretched little life," Marcus warned, brandishing her sword.

"Why run," Monica cooed, "when I've got friends of my own?"  
As if on cue, Rafael, Azure, and Talon all appeared from the metaphorical woodwork, all armed just as well as Monica was.

"What happened to your buddies from '11?" Charm leered, but keeping her guard up in case they were nearby or preparing to ambush them.

"Just follow the Night Witches," Monica responded, almost eerily calmly, "or you know… worry about the tributes in front of you rather than the ones at bay."

"A sinister plot to let District 11 win," Marcus laughed, "I like that…"

"We thought you would," Talon smirked, "we could end the games right now if we wanted…"

"You… District 8?" Amy tiled her head, although she had an idea she knew what the boy meant.

"Us as tributes," he corrected her, "10 of the dozen remaining tributes are all in this little corridor. Did you want to fight to the death now or later?"

Amy responded almost instantly by sending another knife whizzing through the air, where it grazed the boy's arm given that he dodged before it struck his vitals.

"Showtime," Amy smirked, glancing from the dark-skinned District 12 tributes to their lighter-skinned counterparts from District 8. It was not lost on any of them that six districts were already eliminated, and that the tributes from the remaining districts were divided right down district lines with 1, 2, and 3 on one side, and 8, 11, and 12 on the other.

District 8 proved to have a rather swift and elusive pair of tributes who knew the maze fairly well, despite the career pack roaming the area. The narrower corridors prevented the careers from flanking '8 and '12, which Monica and Rafael both used to their advantage. Shaft and Asher stayed behind Charm, Luster, Marcus, and Amy, reverting to ranged weapons due to their (mostly Asher's) injuries.

Ditzy as they might have been, Charm and Luster knew how to fight, and Amy and Marcus learned this the hard way after Azure managed to administer a good-sized wound to Marcus' chest, and Rafael managed to strike Amy in the soft spot of her right shoulder near her neck, effectively disabling both District 2 tributes quickly. It was only after Shaft managed to strike Monica with an arrow that the enemy tributes pulled back.

"Heal up," Monica bit down on the arrow embedded in her thigh and ripped it out with her teeth, "we'll be back for you."  
and they all disappeared as soon as they had appeared. Charm and Luster would have gone after them, but they were not nearly swift enough to catch up with the elusive pairs.

"Lightning war style, huh…" Amy grunted, easing into a sitting position, "there's more to those kids than meets the eye…"


	18. Chapter 18: Strike the Witches' Lair

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: _Amy Zavala and Iris Durango have a lot in common-they are both ruthless 14-year-old career tributes who led their respective career packs against District 11 and District 12. Don't worry though-Amy is not a clone of Iris... or a clone of Chel... or a clone of Ava. Amy is just Amy._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 18: Strike the Witches' Lair**

"And now you know how they got us last time," Charm quipped as Amy, Marcus, and the rest of the career pack fell back and regrouped.

"It makes sense, really," Amy noted, "they are always the stealthy ones…" She thought back to Clove's Hunger Games, where District 12 and District 11 had given them particular trouble. It had mostly been District 12's boy, Peeta Mellark, and District 11's girl, Rue Keniye who gave the careers the most grief that year, killing many tributes. Peeta was able to be taken down as he defended his partner Prim, while Rue was a menace that Cato and Clove were not able to dispatch until they were in the final 3.

"Well did you notice," Marcus pointed out to the others, "That was only District 8 and District 12. They didn't say anything about District 11, and it just doesn't seem like them to be so arrogant to think that they wouldn't need all the allies they could get to take us down."

"Perhaps District 11 is flying solo," Shaft suggested, handing Marcus some of the medicine that he had used for Asher when she had been injured by Monica's surprise attack. He applied it to himself and then handed it over to little Amy, who applied it to her.

Nothing else really happened that night, and so when the anthem played after the sun had gone down, there was only one face in the sky…

_Spark Tracey, District 5…_

During this time, Amy and Marcus also shared with the others what they knew about the Night Witches, which came as a surprising revelation to them  
"All we know is that there are a bunch of them at the Cornucopia." Charm pointed out, and the District 2 pair nodded in agreement and agitation.

"And you know what," Amy's fists clenched, "That cornucopia belongs to us. I'm not about to let some Capitol mutts run it. Tomorrow, we're stocking up on water and then we're reclaiming our cornucopia. There are three, maybe five Night Witches there. There are 6 of us, and we have the element of surprise this time, rather than them."  
"Who put you in charge," Luster raised an eyebrow. Amy actually jumped to her feet, chest wound notwithstanding, and glared up at him.

"Are you challenging me to another arm-wrestle again, kiddo?" she leered, "I'm leading this band of operations because no one else has stepped up to take the reins. If that means I'm becoming another Iris, then so be it,"  
"Hey," Marcus quipped, "Just because Ava from District 12 hates Iris doesn't mean we do."  
"Good," Amy nodded, "because while I don't agree with her excessive and sadistic style of fighting and killing, She was a cunning and intelligent young woman who led the career pack rather well despite Chel Colorado backstabbing them. Any more question?"

There was a certain respectful silence as the tiny 14-year-old spoke, and the others nodded in agreement. They had a leader now, and so they had a plan…

Day 6 opened up uneventfully, however, and so early in the morning Amy made her move. The Capitol medicine had done well for her health, and she felt like she could operate just fine now without flinching from chest or stomach pains.

She woke up the others. "Grab your weapons," she ordered, "we're going to the cornucopia."  
The others followed her without question this time, grabbing their things and zigzagging their way through maze towards where the cornucopia stood. On the way there, they met their Clove-shaped Night Witch friend. Districts 1 and 3 did not take kindly to her at first until Amy explained it. The others seemed surprised, but it also explained why the creature did not attack.

"The kid has it figured out," Marcus reassured his fellow careers, "it's definitely in our best interests to trust her…"

When they reached the Cornucopia clearing, Amy held her hand up to also halt the Clove mutt as they observed their surroundings. There were 5 Night Witches patrolling the cornucopia—Bethany from 69, Annie from 70, Ikki from 77, Nailah from 79, and the leader of these was the Johanna-mutt from the 71st Hunger Games.

"I've figured out the pattern," Asher exclaimed, after seeing the mutts there again. Naturally, Amy and the others gathered around to listen.

"They are modeled after female victors, primarily those between the 69th and 80th Hunger Games." She began, "so we if we can find out how many girls won those games, we can learn how many Night Witches there are…"

"There are 9 female victors during that time." Marcus began, "so there are 9 Night Witches in this arena unless they change their rules."  
"No, it makes sense," Amy backed him up, "there might only be 8 if they aren't making another Katniss mutt. But, either way, with Clove right here, and then Bethany, Annie, Johanna, Ikki, and Nailah are over there, that leaves 3 more unaccounted for: Katniss if they brought her back, and then Zenzi and Paige. We need to take them out—starting with Johanna." She pointed at the Johanna creature, which was wielding a pair of crescent blades.

"Easy as pie," Charm smirked, drawing her bow and pulling back the string. "Watch… and learn."

With astounding accuracy, she put an arrow right between the mutt's eyes, causing them to fall shut immediately, where it fell over, dropping its blades. Amy thrust her arm forward, giving the Clove Night Witch its cue. It took off into the fray, and the career pack followed.

The reason the Johanna mutt dropped so quickly was primarily from the element of surprise. Once they were noticed, the remaining Night Witches had some surprisingly coordinated attacks, even in a 6-on-4 battle. Amy scouted around evasively, trying to pinpoint who the mastermind behind these honey-covered creatures. She expected either Monica or District 11, but neither of them was present at the moment. She wondered if the cornucopia had just truly been sitting there abandoned this whole time.

With a deft throw of a knife, Amy took out the Bethany mutt as it was about to lacerate Marcus, and after the Nailah mutt did try to attack Amy, Marcus returned the favor by hacking right down the mutt's spine, killing it instantly. Shaft and Asher were able to bring down the Annie mutt, whilst District 1 was about to finish off the Ikki mutt. However, the Johanna mutt sprang back up, but only for a few seconds. Out of nowhere, Amy's Clove Night Witch lunged on top of the Johanna mutt by stabbing its blades into the other mutt's shoulders and this time killing it for real, slicing its head off just to be safe. The other mutts had stopped moving a while ago, and the tributes stabbed them repeatedly to make sure that they were not alive.

Soon, the cornucopia had been reclaimed, although it left the exhausted career pack curious about what had happened here, and who was controlling those witches earlier. The odds of nearly half a dozen of them controlling one small, man-made horn without some external guidance were slim enough that it made it feel like the Capitol was either manipulating these mutts or that there were other tributes manipulating them to try and get them to slay their enemies. Amy figured the latter option.

"So we got the cornucopia," Luster shrugged, "now what?"

"Now we enjoy its bounties!" Marcus grinned, finding a first-aid kid that he could use on his injuries both from last night and from earlier today against those Night Witches. Amy found some actual food instead of scavenging for scraps like she and Marcus had kind of done the few days before.

However, they were far from out of the woods—half of the tributes were still out there.

While Shaft, Asher, Charm and Luster volunteered for guard duty to let the District 2 pair rest up a little so that they could be at full strength again tomorrow.

"Well folks," Amy beamed, still acting a bit like a true born leader, "We went right into the Night Witches' lair to recover our rightful cornucopia, and we wiped them all out without a single casualty. They are not nearly as threatening as they look—but if that really is District 11 controlling them, we could be in trouble. I'm mostly worried that we haven't seen them yet.

"They'll show up," Charm grinned, "The Gamemakers won't let them wander too far off while there are still half of the tributes left. Really, gaining the cornucopia was strategic, because any time the Gamemakers tried to push tributes towards the center of the arena, they usually did it with violent traps and tricks and other such dangerous motions.

"So what now, Amy" Marcus raised a curious eyebrow.

"Now, we rest a bit—maybe till the late afternoon." Amy declared, "we've reclaimed the best spot in the arena, and to hell with that damn maze. I wouldn't mind never going back in there again."

"Hear, hear!" the other careers chanted. They popped open some drinks (of water, admittedly), and all got comfortable. Now it was time to play the waiting game…


	19. Chapter 19: Death is in the Air

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Now that we are down to the "Two alliances", the action of these games will pick up as the tributes navigate the foreboding maze and cross paths with each other, which will usually result in a death or two... or three, such as in this chapter. For someone like Amy, it is like a game of chess: Sometimes risks are necessary in order to obtain victory._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 19: Death is in the Air**

There was something undoubtedly sinister and unnerving about this arena. Amy knew that it was not the Gamemakers at work here, but she couldn't help but think about how things were. Day 7 and Day 8 both passed not only without any cannons, but without seeing any more tributes, or even another Night Witch besides the Clove one that would pop back in now and again. Since Amy still had honey for it, it did not turn hostile. She was not about to take that risk.

The general consensus among the careers seemed to be that the best bet was to stick around for the time being. Marcus knew that some of the others would have to pick each other off unless they wanted to try their hand at facing the careers again. With that in mind, he and the others prepared for an attack that did not come for at least two days.

However, something else had also happened that had left the tributes on edge. The morning of day 7 had been unusual insomuch that the 'sun' had not come up, although the slightly warming temperatures indicated that it was in fact a new day. Thus, they only knew it was night by the fact that the anthem played ad it grew slightly cooler. Day 8 was almost a repeat of this, giving the career pack a sense of déjà vu thanks to the lack of much else to differentiate the day from the one before it.

Amy had suggested various plans of action, although she too was not terribly enthusiastic about venturing back into the strange maze either just yet, wondering what Districts 8, 11, and 12 could possibly be up to. Thus, when Shaft, Asher, Marcus, Charm, and Luster all expressed similar sentiments, Amy did not complain.

Day 9, however, increased their vigor and enthusiasm as the sun came back up.

"Finally!" Charm whined, "I get to see daylight again! I thought I was going to die in that darkness."

"Well you know what this means," Amy grunted, pulling herself to her feet and taking a few steps in front of the others to turn to face them, "it means we need a plan. Does anyone want to lead the operation, or should I? Speak now or forever hold your peace!"

Everyone nodded in agreement that they would hear Amy's plans out. She didn't expect that they would automatically agree with them, but it was worth a shot.

"So according to our map, Marcus and I both learned that there is a large volcano in the northwest area of the maze, so I doubt that the others have gone that way," she suggested, "I am thinking we need to head southeast today to try and weed them out. We haven't seen District 11 at all so far, and so if we haven't seen them, perhaps they are farther south in the parts of the arena that we have not explored."

"But I don't think that you have to cross the cornucopia clearing to get to the different maze sections," Asher suggested, "so we might just be going on a wile mutt chase."  
"I understand that," Amy nodded, "and that reminds me: definitely keep some honey on hand. There might only be a few more Night Witches left, but I doubt any of us want to die by them."

There was a murmur of agreement from the other careers.

"A suggestion, if I may," Luster stood up, grabbing his weapons.

"Go for it," Amy shrugged, "It's not like I'm your commander or anything—just a kid with a plan."

"We should branch out a bit," he suggested, "like, once we get far enough away from the cornucopia, we could split up into pairs—probably just by District—and then scour more of the arena that way."  
"I'm fine with that," Amy nodded, glancing at Marcus.

"I like that notion," Marcus agreed with a smirk, "I'll keep the kid in line."

"Marcus, you ass!" Amy shook her head.

"I love you too, Amy," the gigantic boy retorted.

To cut a long story short, soon the career pack was back on the prowl again after arming themselves with weapons and supplies in case something prevented them from getting back to the cornucopia right away. Let it not be said that they did not plan ahead. As they wandered the maze, they eventually came to a three-way fork as they headed south. District 1 volunteered to take the east path, District 2 took the west path, and District 3 continued going straight. They agreed to meet back at this intersection within an hour or two if nothing happened. They agreed to shout if any enemies were sighted as well.

"So, you have any ideas of what to expect?" Amy asked Marcus as they walked, being alone together for the first time in a few days, "y'know—like, in the maze?"

"I think your guess is as good as mine," the gigantic boy quipped, "but hopefully we'll be able to weed out another tribute—or some more Night Witches."  
The Clove Night Witch had not followed them, and Amy wondered if it had turned on them at last or something to that extent. She kept her wits about her, just in case.

About 30-45 minutes into their scouring the maze, however, a cannon went off.

"Hopefully that was one of the others," Amy frowned.

"If it was one of ours, they better have gotten a good shot on 'em," Marcus insisted, "Not that I wouldn't be a bit bummed about it, but I'm glad it's not you, Amy."

"I'm glad it wasn't you either, Marcus," Amy slapped Marcus' back in a friendly way. They had been about to continue when they heard a girl scream a second later.

"ENEMY SIGHTED!" it sounded like Charm, which meant that the death had not been her. Instantly, they diverted their course back north a little ways before beelining it as much as they could towards the east. They caught up with Shaft and Asher, relieved that they too were still alive. However, by the time they found Charm, they knew there was trouble. She was fending off the District 8 pair, and Luster's body was lying motionless and covered in blood just a few feet away.

"Shit!" Amy swore, aggravated that one of the District 8 tributes had just done in a career.

"I got this," Shaft smirked as they appeared on the scene. "CHARM, DUCK!"

Charm ducked without question, and Azure, the girl from '8, ducked as well. Her partner Talon was not as fortunate, and was on the receiving end of Shaft's arrow to his chest, dropping him almost immediately. The boy's death was swift and probably fairly painless, since the cannon fired only a few seconds later. So it was going to be one tribute for two then—Amy could live with that, even if Luster's death was a bit of a shocker this early still. She had kind of expected the career alliance to outlast everyone before turning on each other.

Azure was much faster than Talon though, and despite being outnumbered 5-to-1, she stood her ground, twirling a pair of axes rather deftly.

"You're outnumbered, 8!" Amy warned, brandishing some of her trusty throwing knives.

"If that bothered me, I'd have ran by now," she retorted, slashing at Charm and Asher, who were closest. Marcus whipped out his trusty two-handed sword and raced in. However, it was Amy that wound up stealing the kill, sidestepping and throwing a knife that lodged itself right in Azure's throat. The girl chocked on her own blood for a moment before dropping her weapons, falling to her knees, and then crumpling as a third cannon went off. The fight was over, and the damage was done.

"Let's fall back and regroup," Amy sighed, collecting her knives. "The last thing we need is Monica popping in on us when we're like this. She'd capitalize on this incident so badly."

"Why do you say that?" Marcus asked as the five of them began navigating back towards the cornucopia, "she just lost two of her allies, and there's still no sign of District 11."

"We're in her kind of turf though," Amy indicated, "kids from '11 and '12 specialize in the wilderness scenario, and are definitely some of the best hide-n-seek champions. Remember Rue Keniye from Clove's games?"

Even though Clove's games had been before Marcus and Amy's time (Marcus had just barely been born that year, and Amy wasn't even a thought in her mother's mind at the time), Few people could forget the cunning and elusive little 12-year-old girl from District 11, who managed to evade the careers and lead them on in a huge manipulative game of Cat and Mouse before they finally caught up to her.

"What I'm saying, Marcus," Amy continued, "is that Monica is totally not above that kind of fighting."

Thankfully, however, it seemed that they were safe for the time being, for they made it back to the cornucopia without further incident. The lingering notion of death hung about the career pack that afternoon, however, and made Amy wonder if the rest of the games were going to be like today…


	20. Chapter 20: Project Rosalina

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _Apologies for the late chapter and irrelevant title. The deaths seem to be happening by district, although I can assure you that it's not some evil Capitol plot or anything; just that these Hunger Games have clearly developed two powerful factions of tributes, with Districts 2 and 3 on one side, and Districts 11 and 12 on the other. Also, there are in fact only 4 more Night Witches on the loose: Paige (District 8, 73), Clove (District 2, 74), Katniss (District 12, 75), and Zenzi (District 11, 80).  
Just something to think about. __Happy reading!_

**CHAPTER 20: Project Rosalina**

Charm seemed the most distressed about the day's events, since it was her partner that had been killed. Even reassurances from Shaft and Amy did little to console her.

"Did you wish you could have killed her yourself?" The smaller boy tilted his head.

"It's not even that," Charm sighed, "Just… that boy came out of nowhere, distracting us just long enough for that girl to strike… And now Luster's gone."

"Well, now they're down to four," Amy nodded. She was also immediately glad that she had not been the one to suggest splitting up. Luster had actually been the one to suggest splitting up in the first place, and he and Charm had decided together that they had wanted to take the eastern path. Not to say that Amy thought they deserved it, but she was glad it was Luster and not Marcus, if someone had to die. She knew much better than to say that in front of the District 1 girl though.

"They might even be down to two sets of two," Marcus reminded them, "There's no telling if District 11 and District 12 are still even together at all. We haven't seen District 11 at all since the bloodbath."

"Again, you make me want to remind you of Rue, Marcus," Amy elbowed the larger boy. "They're probably just playing hide and seek with us."  
"You never came off to me as the type to shrug off a tribute and their potential threat," Shaft quipped.

"That's because I'm not," Amy corrected him, "But if they are hiding, they are probably going to stay that way as long as possible. They are probably waiting for District 12 to try and do the dirty work with us and weaken us before they pop in when we're prime for the killing. Luckily for us and unfortunately for them, that is under the impression that we're going to allow District 12 to kick our asses."

Marcus ruffled Amy's hair. "This is another reason why I like you, kid," he smirked, "you've got charisma. Maybe I'm just biased, but I think this kid's got some pretty damn good leadership skills, wouldn't you all say?" He turned to Shafter, Asher, and Charm, all of whom nodded.

"I'm glad you were able to spare any more casualties, Amy" Charm admitted, "Thank you."

"I'm sorry about Luster," Amy shrugged with a frown. Her sympathy was slightly limited only by the fact that she knew the boy, as well as Charm, Shaft, Asher, and all of the others, including Marcus, would all have to die for her to get home and send her message. Hopefully they would die before she had to turn on them—especially Marcus, who the tiny girl did feel slightly indebted to. The gigantic boy, who most people probably just saw as a big ruthless killer with a surprisingly sweet sense of humor, did in fact have a soft spot for his friend Amy.

"At least his killer got killed," Charm sighed, "But now of course, that leaves Rafael and Monica, and then Dante and Cherry from District 11 as well. We have no idea where they are."

"That's why we need to keep the cornucopia secure," Amy insisted, "we can see anyone trying to creep out of the maze, and that way we won't have any more ambushes from the likes of District 8 again."

"We just need to watch out for the remaining Night Witches," Marcus reminded her, "Even if the Clove one is still on our side, that still leaves Katniss, Zenzi, and Paige, and I don't exactly see ample supplies of honey at our disposal."  
"Well that's easy enough," Shaft insisted, "we can just kill them."

Otherwise, the afternoon and evening went fairly eventlessly, with the anthem playing as the sun went down, and the faces of Day 9's victims appearing in the sky.

_Luster Marcelo, District 1…_

Charm gave a respectful, Peacekeeper-style salute to Luster's face when it showed up in the sky, and then turned away perhaps defiantly as the next faces showed up that she knew would come.

_Talon Marcos, District 8…_

Amy and Marcus exchanged glances, but did not say anything. District 8, despite having lost both of its tributes, had fought well for them to have survived 9 days before both getting killed. One of them had taken out a high-scoring career tribute, no less. Amy respected the girl whose face showed up in the sky a moment later.

_Azure Velaskez, District 8…_

After her face disappeared, the sky went dark again, and Marcus, Shaft, Asher, and Charm all retreated back towards the cornucopia. Amy glanced up at the sky, waving two fingers in some odd form of salute. She respected a worthy opponent, even if she wasn't about to let Charm see what she had just done.

Shortly afterwards, the career pack fell asleep, and managed to stay asleep through the night.

The next morning they were raring for action, but Charm in particular was still very reserved about leaving the cornucopia after yesterday's incident. None of the others were too inclined to argue it. They were 10 days into the games now, and there were only 9 tributes left. If Shaft, Asher, Marcus, Amy, and Charm were able to exterminate Dante, Cherry, Rafael, and Monica, they could have an epic showdown of career tributes as they turned on each other like career tributes always did at the end of the games after they had killed all the weaker tributes.

But that was the thing—the "weaker tributes" were all already gone. The lowest-scoring tributes right now were that elusive District 11 pair, and both of them had scored 9s. Shaft and Monica had scored 10s; while Charm, Asher, and Rafael had all scored 11s. Marcus and Amy had both scored 12s, and so it was clear that the remaining pool of tributes was going to be dangerous. Surely the Capitol was stoked for these games of strength and strategy within the sinister maze of secrets.

The careers did not choose to leave the cornucopia today, especially after Marcus and Amy got sponsored some food with a witty note from Clove, that they did not share.

"_Remember who the most powerful tributes in the arena are." –C–_

Marcus and Amy exchanged glances, before sharing the food with the others—there was plenty to go around for the moment, and so while the day had been eventless, it had not been sad or too boring.

However, it was around sunset when something finally did happen. Charm froze after a slight thumping noise, and slipped off of her crate she had been sitting on.

"GET DOWN!" Amy was the first one to react, hearing a cannon go off a second later. An arrow was sticking out of Charm's forehead, and the girl was dead. Immediately, Shaft and Asher got down, and Marcus, who was easily the largest of the remaining four careers, ducked behind the 'wall' of the golden horn. Amy, who was easily the tiniest tribute on the entire field, glanced around, before another arrow grazed her forearm. Had she not been wearing those metal-plated gloves, her hand might have been disabled at this point.

"It's Monica!" Amy warned, "She's on the hedge!" She pointed, and sure enough, the District 12 girl had climbed the hedge, somehow balancing herself while she loaded and shot arrows. However, Amy put a quick end to that. Jumping out from behind her crate, she threw a knife right at Monica's face. However, the girl evaded it, but from her precarious position, it instead snapped her bowstring, which lashed out and ripped the girl's right hand open. Monica cried out in pain, jumped down from the hedge, and took off into the shadows. Amy raced after her, but abandoned the search quickly.

"I'm not about to fall into one of her traps." She reasoned. "Monica was probably doing it on purpose to lure us to District 11 or something…"

"Well, we need a plan," Marcus reminded her. "We need to be more careful."

It was not too much longer after the sun had set that the anthem played, showing the face of their fallen friend and ally.

_Charm DeMetz, District 1…_

"Only four districts are left," Shaft pointed out, "District 2, District 3, District 11, and District 12, all of which still have both of their tributes."

"Aye," Amy nodded, "stay on your guard though—we need to find the happy balance between staying wary and getting some rest."

"Remember," Marcus reminded her, "they need rest too—and I doubt Monica will be drawing a bow with her hand bleeding all over the place."

Marcus' words were fairly reassuring, and so the career pack managed to convince themselves to get some rest that evening.

Amy woke up during the night though, and around her there was silence. Shaft, Asher, and Marcus were all asleep nearby, near the safety of the massive golden horn's mouth. Amy was also with them, though her eyes were open and adjusted to the darkness. In the dimness Amy's eyes widened. Down in the southern passages, facing them was 4 pairs of red, glowing eyes, surrounded by fog.

"Wake up," Amy pushed Marcus, who in turn pushed Shaft who pushed Asher, "We've got witches on our asses again."

"You think we can lure 'em?" Marcus yawned, "or that our buddy Clove will come back?  
"No," Amy shook her head.

"No?" Marcus tilted her head, still whispering, "Why not?"

"Because," Amy whispered, "we're out of honey."


	21. Chapter 21: Living a Nightmare

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _The 92nd Hunger Games does appear to be moving at a very fast pace compared to the 91st. Thus, we might get to see a bit of how our old friend Ava (and our friend Clove) are reacting to all of this, in a near future chapter. In the meantime, there are a couple more deaths, and a lod more hidden dangers. This arena is truly one of the more devilish ones concocted in recent years._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 21: Living a Nightmare**

The careers sat up, their weapons drawn as the four pairs of red eyes appeared to be growing closer. They were surrounded by fog this time too, which of course, was not a good sign even in the slightest.

"Any idea what the fog is," Amy whispered to the others, hoping that District 3 might know something about it from somewhere or something.

"I couldn't say," Shaft shrugged, "my only theory is that it has something to do with those Night Witches. It didn't show up till they did."

"Well there's also four pairs of eyes, and there are four of them left," Amy pointed out, "it means our friend Clove has turned against us and she needs to die."

"Well I don't see any reason for us to wait for them to reach us." Shaft whipped out his bow and let an arrow loose. It whizzed right through the creature as if it were a wisp of smoke. Amy aimed for another one with one of her knives, only for the same thing to happen. Despite this, the red-eyed monsters kept coming closer.

"Maybe you have to hit 'em in melee combat or something," he suggested, charging with his sword. He cleaved at the nearest monster, which was in fact the one that looked like Clove, but his sword went right through the monster, which then drew its blades. However, instead of attacking, it emitted a hiss. Suddenly dozens of pairs of red eyes appeared around them, with the fog swirling around the remaining career tributes.

"MARCUS, LOOK OUT!" Amy screamed. The creature slashed at the gigantic boy. However, nothing happened, and Marcus merely felt a wisp of smoke against his chest.

"It's not real," he exclaimed, "These monsters are an illusion."

"We can't be sure they all are illusions," Amy warned, "Let's get in there and fight them."

Asher grabbed her spears, while Shaft kept his bow. Amy drew out her daggers, and Marcus had her back with his gigantic two-handed sword. The career pack began hacking through these wispy monsters with ease, since there were no actual attacks against them, and they were all illusions. Their only other interruption was Shaft yelling. Though in the fog, they could hardly see him—it was getting thicker. Thankfully it did not seem to have any adverse effect on the skin or the lungs, for the tributes of District 2 and District 3 were all breathing just fine and were in otherwise perfect health.

"There's a fire!" the boy shouted, and the other tributes glanced the way he was pointing.

"I don't see a fire," Asher exclaimed, "but I do see a wave of water coming our way. Let's get out of here!" She took off southward. They were panicking, and suddenly she saw why. The ground was opening up right beneath her feet! Were the Gamemakers really trying to off the career pack this early?

While he was a big and strong, Marcus was not as stupid as Amy joked he was (and she knew it too). Incidentally, it was a sponsor gift that helped keep Marcus safe. He opened it to find a simplistic type of gas mask, with a simple note attached.

"_Just put this on…" –C–_

It was here that it clicked. The image of Clove in front of him, shouting that this was all real, was in fact an illusion. Putting the gas mask over his mouth meant he was breathing clean air, and suddenly the illusions and noises stopped. The fog was the source!

"STOP!" he roared, and Shaft, Asher, and Amy all froze, despite their slightly panicked states.

"It's the fog!" he exclaimed as the tributes gathered around, "The fog is producing these illusions. Follow me! We need to get out of here!"

"What about the cornucopia?" Amy exclaimed

"I'd rather be far from it than driven mad." Marcus replied, taking her hand. "Shaft, Asher, stick with us!" Thankfully, the District 3 pair did just that. They delved into the deep southeastern section of the maze, despite the risk that Monica and Rafael could be lurking about in that corner. District 2 was not about to cower before District 12.

Thankfully they did not run into Rafael or Monica, nor did they run into District 11 or any Night Witches, and so the evening of Day 10 finally ended in peace.

Day 11 was a further reminder of just how sinister this arena really was though. Similar to Day 7 and Day 8, the sky remained dark, and it was probably bound to throw the tributes off again.

Marcus had managed to lead them to a section of the maze that had water at the end of one corridor, and had these little fruit bushes at the other end. They were not much, but the fruit they produced was abundant, and so was enough to feed the four tributes.

"So with the cornucopia fogged out, where does that leave us?" Asher turned to Amy and Marcus, since the District 2 pair did seem to be the most influential leaders, particularly Amy.

"It leaves 8 tributes in a nightmare," Amy shook her head, "I… honestly don't know what we're going to do from here." The notion of the arena seemed so simple—it was just a freaking maze.

Day 12 proved to be almost identical to Day 11, with no sign of daylight in sight. Morale among the career pack was halted at a minimum, for after exploring more of the maze, they found themselves confronted by that fog, and Marcus' gas mask was not a very solid model, and it faltered on him as well soon enough. Essentially, they were trapped.

Anything that remotely resembled a pattern in the maze or in the Gamemakers' behavior was beyond Marcus and Amy, or even Shaft and Asher. There was clearly some kind of action somewhere, perhaps with District 11 or something, since they had not been seen for days now. On the other hand, being this far away from the center of the maze did make Amy worried.

"There hasn't been a single cannon since Charm's," she warned as the anthem played as Day 12 drew to a close, "if too much time passes without action, guess what parts of the arena they'll close off first?"

"Let's rest then," Shaft suggested, "there's no point in worrying about it right now…

And so that was what they did. Day 13 was soon upon them, and to their relief, the sun was shining, and there was no sign of that hallucinatory fog. However, they had a problem that reminded Amy very strongly of certain events in the 91st Hunger Games. Their 'water source' was spreading—fast.

"Get up," Amy shoved the others, "Get up now."

"Hey the sun's up ag—AAAH!" Asher cried out. The ground had collapsed under her, plunging her into the water. Marcus lunged after her, plunging his hand into the water, grabbing Asher's arm and yanking her out of the water.

"On your feet!" he shouted, "we need to get moving!"

Despite the collapsing floor, the hedge walls remained completely intact. The career pack moved westward. The northwest corner of the maze was a volcano, and the southeast corner was a lake, though something also started looking strange in the water. Whatever it was, illusion or not, none of them wanted to take any chances with it.

However, they soon found themselves facing a much larger problem. Somehow, District 12 was clinging to the hedge walls, skillfully crawling on the hedges in pursuit of the tributes from District 2 and District 3. If Monica had been injured before, she was better now.

"I want to fucking rip that girl's arms out!" Amy growled, as she continued fleeing. The collapsing floors were not stopping, and Rafael and Monica were still in hot pursuit.

It was only after they reached the "boundary" of the collapsing floors that the two tributes struck. Rafael came down upon Asher and ended the girl's life immediately. Seconds later, Monica gave Shaft the same treatment, and two cannons fired. It was only after this that Amy and Marcus spun around. To add insult to injury, Rafael had picked up Asher's spears, and Monica had taken Shaft's bow.

Monica stood warily at an intersection, Rafael right beside her. "do you want to split up and find us? Or would you rather District 11 not show their faces when they ambush you…" Without waiting for District 2's answer, Rafael darted one way and Monica darted the other, leaving nothing but the bloodstained corpses of Shaft and Asher, both of whom had been alive moments ago.

With them heading south though, Amy and Marcus beelined it as much as they could until they reached the cornucopia. District 12 did not follow them, much to Amy's surprise, but on the other hand, the cornucopia offered nothing of any real value. Something or someone had plundered it in the last few days while the careers were trapped by the fog. First they had hallucinated from that fog, and then got driven away from the cornucopia, before also getting ambushed by District 12 on their way away from a massive arena hazard. The odds were truly not looking good for them right now.


	22. Chapter 22: Two, Eleven, Twelve

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _It seems the tides have turned, with the outlying districts being the hunters and the career tributes being the hunted. However, those who are rooting for our District 2 heroes need not fear. Marcus and Amy are tougher than that, and will not fall so easily to Rafael and Monica's traps the way their District 1 or 3 counterparts might have. This chapter and the next one or two will be something of an interlude before I work my way into the final fights and we get our victor crowned. So till then... Happy reading!_

**CHAPTER 22: Two, Eleven, Twelve...**

Alone—Marcus and Amy were once again by themselves, this time at an otherwise fairy empty cornucopia with nothing but the supplies in their packs. The career alliance had fallen to District 12's cunning tributes, and they were still out there, not to mention that District 11 was still somewhere out there and unchecked. The career pack was in shambles, with just Marcus and Amy remaining.

"So which are you more worried about?" Marcus quipped as the tiny exhausted girl collapsed in front of the mouth of the golden horn, "District 11 or District 12?"

"12," Amy replied without even looking up, "Monica's an asshole. I seriously want to rip her arms off and beat her with them."

"Well, we know where they're lurking." He reminded her, "and killing them could lead us to District 11. If we wait long enough, the Capitol will either chase us to them, or will coax them to us. Obviously that's still a risk factor, but it'd be one I was willing to take if District 12 was out of the way."  
"That's another thing that makes me curious," Amy nodded, "where the heck is District 11? We haven't seen or heard a peep out of them, and they're obviously still alive, which is why we haven't heard any cannons go off."

"Hmm…" Marcus dragged Amy up and into his lap, leaning against the inner wall of the cornucopia's mouth. The tiny girl did not resist it this time.

Amy snuggled into Marcus' lap and closed her eyes. "I'm trying to think of where they might be,"

"Well, there's also the Night Witches to watch out for." Marcus reminded her, "We might not have to kill them to end the games, but what if Monica finds some honey…"

Amy paused, her eyes widening.

"I think I know where Dante and Cherry are and what they're up to," she exclaimed, "perhaps they used the honey and attracted the Night Witches, and now are waiting for an opportunity to strike?"  
"Well then we can't go seeking them—not this morning anyways, Marcus insisted, "we only need to move if we run low on food or water."  
"But of course," Amy nodded in agreement. "I suppose now we just play the waiting game…"

Luckily the latter half of day 13 did not have the kind of frantic action that the beginning did when Shaft and Asher died. There was no sign of Rafael or Monica, let alone Dante or Cherry. Marcus and Amy were alone at the cornucopia, surrounded by a fiendish maze that seemed to be working against them.

Despite the bright and sunny afternoon, the District 2 pair were still somewhat uncomfortable. There was something about it that did not sit well with them.

"Is it just me," Amy looked up at her larger partner, "or does something not feel right?"  
"Nothing feels right here," Marcus shook his head with a sigh, "hopefully there's not some invisible morale-reducing fog or something in the air."  
"I think the arena itself has that effect," Amy nodded in agreement, gazing up at the sky. "one corner of the arena threatens to burn us up, the other corner tries to drown us, and the whole thing is built to be a giant maze of unnaturally resilient hedges. As if that all wasn't bad enough, then there are those Night Witches to worry about, as well as whatever kinds of fog and haze they have floating around."

"I see the theme for this arena then," Marcus warned, "it's a nightmare—a nightmare cleverly disguised as a hedge maze.

"Don't go judging me the wrong way for this, Marcus," Amy shifted on his lap so that she was looking directly at the gigantic boy, "but I've got a confession to make."

"We're in the Hunger Games," Marcus chuckled, "if nothing else, one or both of us are going to be dead in a day or two anyways. You can tell me whatever you want, and one of us will take it to the grave."

"A fair enough point," the tiny girl shrugged before taking a breath.

"So what's on your mind, kiddo," Marcus asked, ruffling Amy's already messy dark hair.

"To be honest, I'm kind of scared," she admitted, "I'm not about to piss my pants or anything here, and I'm pretty sure that if I saw another tribute I'd still be able to gut them real quickly… just that this suspense worries me. Okay, so I should correct myself. Cherry, Dante, and Rafael intrigue me, but Monica's the only one that really worries me. If feel like if one of us dies to one of those other tributes, that it's going to be Monica dealing the killing blow."

There was a moment of silence before the small girl sighed and continued.

"I know, I'm probably a joke for admitting a fear or something…" she confessed, "but I—"

Marcus interrupted her, placing a couple of fingers on her chin. "As long as you don't let your fears conquer you in the heat of battle," he whispered, "there's no reason to try and shed every emotion you own. Too many career kids forget that, and it's a right shame. Part of the reason I joke a lot is because I don't want to become like one of them. I still want to be Marcus Romero when I die, not just 'the boy from District 2'."  
"I getcha," Amy nodded, "and honestly, that's what I like about you. For as much as I call you a stupid buffoon or a big dumb lunk… it's kind of how I show affection. Panem needs more people like you, Marcus. You and Chel were shining examples of what District 2 should be like."  
"You're not too shabby yourself, you know," Marcus reminded her, "So you have a fear or a reservation about something—every victor ever does. You're small and fast and cunning. You've got the charisma to be a leader that I just don't have."  
"You saved us from the fog though, remember?"

"I got sponsored a gas mask. If you had gotten it, you could have easily dragged us out. Now, I might be smart enough to know which way to point my sword, but you're the kind of kid who would not just tell me that, but would tell me the best way to swing it. We make a good team, you know. Not to say that District 1 and District 3 were poor allies, but there's a reason that both of us are still alive."

Amy smiled sweetly. "We eluded and evaded District 12 for this long… let's finish this."  
"What happens if it's just the two of us though?" Marcus tilted her head curiously. Amy paused, and then sighed. She really would not want to kill Marcus, but knew it'd be necessary if she were to survive this thing and come home to send her message.

"I guess it's just a matter of doing what needs to be done," she shrugged and frowned, "just business."

"That's how I saw it," Marcus admitted, "nothing personal; just business. But let's not worry about that till Monica's just an armless corpse, eh?" he winked, referring to Amy's earlier remark about wanting to rip Monica's arms off. Black humor was commonplace amongst Hunger Games tributes.

"Sounds like a plan," Amy nodded, putting her arms around Marcus. "Hopefully they don't kill me in my sleep—I need a nap."

"You and me both," Marcus smirked, "Maybe we should keep watch, but you know what, screw it. We're careers. We don't need to worry about the others."  
"That's the old mindset I miss," Amy laughed, "but napping sounds like a plan to me."

While the remaining two career tributes slept, other tributes were on the prowl. The northern half of the maze had been taken over by the fires and the lava, but luckily, the other tributes were down south. Monica and Rafael were near the southern fringes of the maze, moving westward, and incidentally, were also searching for District 11. The alliance had actually broken off as early as before the deaths of Talon and Azure, and so District 12 did not even know what District 11 was up to or how they had remained so elusive this entire time.

But, the afternoon wore on, and Rafael and Monica were unable to find any other tributes. The fog that had formerly been at the cornucopia now seemed to block their way northward, which may have unintentionally spared the sleeping Marcus and Amy.

"Do ya think the Gamemakers are preventing us from finishing off District 2 this early?" Rafael suggested, gazing at the foggy haze that drifted across the path they wanted to go in.

"Absolutely," Monica nodded, cracking her knuckles, "it saved us from the careers at one point in time, which means that what goes around comes around. I still want to find '11 and gut them though… turning on us like that so early in the games."  
"I guess that's what we get for trusting them with the Night Witches," the boy shrugged, "ah well… at least we got sponsors. I almost thought Ava was going to hold our gifts back."

"Nah, the kid's nicer than that," the girl insisted, "but of course, sooner or later, the mercy period wears thin… and it is then—and only then—that people have to die."


	23. Chapter 23: The Two Mentors

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _There was an error when posting chapter 22, and I accidentally reposted chapter 16 instead. This mistake has been fixed since then, and so if you have not read it, be sure not to skip it. Otherwise, This chapter is kind of an interlude, where we take a break from Marcus and Amy and get to focus a bit more on a couple of the other remaining tributes. Perhaps more than that, we also get to see a bit of Clove Kazera and Aveline Togisala, the current mentors for District 2 and District 12 as they discuss their tributes, as well as their mental states and how the games have effected them. So, it's kind of a break from the fast-paced, sinister madness that is the 92nd Hunger Games, but I hope y'all like it._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 23: The Two Mentors**

The afternoon was slow but eventful outside of the cornucopia. Marcus and Amy slept on, with the tiny girl snoring softly as she snuggled into the gigantic boy's warm, inviting arms.

Rafael and Monica elected to wait a bit before trying to head back north in their attempts and hopes to find and kill Marcus and Amy. The girl seemed a bit more eager to do it than the boy, although both of them did stay fairly united in this regard. After all, the careers would need to die if one of them was to go home. Rafael decided not to mention this to Monica.

"Welp," the girl shrugged after an afternoon of fruitlessly trying to find a way north, "either the Gamemakers are trying to stall us out by blocking the maze, or they are literally modifying the walls and trying to route us somewhere."  
"Well, why don't we abandon our design to go north," Rafael suggested, "and head west instead. If we can't go north, then neither can District 11…"  
"Hmm… that's not too bad of an idea." Monica smirked, "I'd really like to gut those backstabbing sons of bitches for walking off so quickly."

"And what then," Rafael raised an eyebrow, "we gonna try and go for Marcus and Amy?"

Monica smirked. "I always save the best for last," she replied, "we'll finish breaking the career pack the same way we have been. District 1 and District 3 fell to our antics. Azure was simply the catalyst."

"You seem rather vehement about all this," Rafael observed aloud,

"Think of the history we could make, Raph," Monica turned to her partner, "we'd be one of the only districts to produce consecutive victors. We'd be the first non-career district to do so…"

"Well it's certainly not like I was about to consign myself to death just because District 12 produced a victor last year," Rafael agreed, "I'm just as in it to win it as the rest of us."

"That's the thing," Monica put her gloved hands on Rafael's shoulders. Almost as if it was protocol, they and District 11 were both barefooted. Tributes from those districts seemed to dislike shoes. "District 12 is waking up. Katniss started it by winning the Quell. Then we got Vigo less than a decade later. He managed to get Aveline in even less time than that."  
"So basically, District 12 became more ruthless," Rafael chuckled, "Ava was merciless, and Vigo was a means to an end kind of guy… and I don't even think I need to mention Katniss' 12 arena kills."

"Dude, Katniss was fucking LEGENDARY. I'm half surprised that she doesn't brag about that accomplishment a bit more. Ava wasn't too bad either. 7 is a decent number."

"Please tell me you're not keeping score," Rafael elbowed her.

"Pfft," Monica snorted, "if I was, I'd already have lost, since the most I could get at this point is 8—and I'd be bitching about my training score a bit more. I wouldn't have held back if I cared about numbers."

"Then what's the plan?" Rafael tilted his head again, "we still going after '11?"

"Definitely," Monica consented, "I all of a sudden feel like Clove and Cato from the year before Katniss. Hopefully it doesn't take us 3 days to find them."

"There's a reason Rue's still a legend," Rafael reminded her. "Hide 'n seek Hunger Games Champion. Dante and Cherry have nothing on her."

It was true that Rue Keniye from the 74th Hunger Games was someone to look up to. The little tribute had killed two of the careers, as well as a few other tributes, both directly and indirectly. To top it off, despite the best efforts of District 2 and the Gamemakers, they could not flush the elusive tribute out into combat, and thus Clove and Cato had spent 3 days trying to corner her before finally doing her in.

Thus, while District 2 rested, District 12 was on the prowl, trying to find their unseen foe.

Miles away in the Capitol however, the mentors, as well as the rest of Panem, knew exactly where each tribute was hiding. 13 days in and 6 tributes remained meant that there was probably a finale in the works. Most Hunger Games lasted only about 14 or 15 days nowadays.

"You got a good pair of tributes this year, kid."

Aveline, the young District 12 mentor, turned to find herself face to face with Clove Kazera.

"It's weird mentoring a couple of kids that are both older and bigger than me," Ava admitted, "but something about them rubs me the wrong way—especially Monica."

"She's a ruthless little shit, that's for sure," Clove sat down, inviting Ava to do the same, "She definitely got far, and she might be able to win it for you."

"So you like her then?" Ava sat down beside the older girl and turned to face her,

"I do;" Clove shrugged, "obviously I've gotta put my money on my own tributes, but I like them too, so it's not too hard for me to bank on Amy and Marcus."  
"I actually like your tributes better than mine," Ava admitted. Clove raised an eyebrow.

"That's a mighty bold statement, kid; any particular reason for that line of thought?"

"Monica's just a bit too… crazy; too violent." Ava confessed, "You probably like her though and are probably going to retort with some disparaging remark about now."

"Close," Clove quipped, "I like her because she's like you in a way. She is cunning and she knows what she wants, and then acts on it."

"And so what about that violent, sadistic side of her,"

"Hey, I had my fun killing kids. If I wanted to do it again, I would have, by now. I don't exactly approve of her methods either, but it's a means to an end. If she wants to live, she's gotta do what she's gotta do. I myself used to enjoy playing with my prey before actually killing them, but that damn kid from '11 quickly corrected that."  
Ava paused, shaking her head. "Just when I thought I understood you, Clove… you do this."

"But that's just it," Clove shook her head, "I'm not right in the head and I know it. They give you those needles for a reason, you know. I'm not safe to be around."  
"When was the last time they stabbed you?"

"It was a few minutes ago, actually. I just got done talking with Kozue from District 11 and she stabbed me." she pulled up her sleeve to show off a red pinprick in her arm.

"This is probably personal," Ava put her hand to her chest for a moment, "but could you possibly explain that a bit more to me? I mean, when Leto stabbed you during my victory tour, I thought she had killed you. It kind of freaked me out."

"Well, it's exactly what it seems like," Clove shrugged, "I've always had a few bolts loose. It just took me winning the Hunger Games and killing my partner in a final showdown for me to realize just how out of it I really was. They started drugging me after I tried attacking some of the surgeons who were cleaning me up. I also nearly went ballistic in District 4. I dunno why—both those kids died in the bloodbath my year, so it didn't make sense."  
"Hey," Ava nearly chuckled, "I hate District 4 and I'm not on any drugs. "  
"You just hate '4 because you hate Iris." Clove smirked.  
"Well no shit," Ava retorted. It was still touchy for Ava to remember the girl who had so brutally slaughtered her brother, but she managed to keep herself under control, "but any place that produces a nasty little fucker like that deserves to be hated. I'm not even sorry." She also did not mention that during the trip to District 4 during her victory tour, Ava had had a rather traumatizing nightmare that had played on all of her worst fears. The visit itself was not too eventful, but the angry glares from Iris Durango's parents had been burned in Ava's memory forever.

"So do you hate District 12?" Clove quipped, "cuz of Monica?"

"I don't hate Monica that way," Ava shook her head, "Just… I kind of hope she doesn't win. She's just too… too much like… well, I don't know how to explain it."  
"I think I get what you mean," Clove nodded, her expression surprisingly understanding. "But if you don't want your own tributes to win, do you have a preference?"  
"I honestly really like your tribute—Marcus, I think?" Ava admitted, "he's a big goofball. He kind of reminds me of Chel."

"he does," Clove chuckled, "he's got a heart of gold just as she did. It makes me wonder if they were related or something. But hey. Y'know what, kid—Aveline?"

"What?" Ava asked, watching as Clove's face grew gentler and more understanding.

"you probably already know it, but there are good people and bad people in every district. I'm no shining example of a good person or anything, and I deserved the mental trauma I got from my games… but whether they're from District 1 or District 12 or anything in between—or hell, even the Capitol… you can find good people wherever you go. It was one of the best lessons I learned."  
"That's a lovely point," Ava smiled. "I never thought I'd say this, but… thank you, Clove. Thank you."


	24. Chapter 24: Minding the Arena

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Another late chapter, for which I apologize. Similar to my last fic, my 24th chapter does not show the main characters at all, and takes the perspective of others. In this case, it's more of Ava and Clove, and a bit of insight into the minds of Rafael West and Monica Savage, and what they're thinking right now. This also inevitably reveals a bit about that mysterious District 11 pair that we haven't seen for days._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 24: Minding the Arena**

"So here's a curious question for you, Ava," Clove raised an eyebrow, turning to the younger mentor.

"Shoot," Ava suggested, figuring the question couldn't be all that bad.

"What are your thoughts on this arena?" the older girl seemed unfazed, although Ava was instantly proved wrong about the difficulty of the question.

"These tributes are stronger than I would have been," she admitted, "those monsters… those Night Witches… I still can't get over them. What do you think of them? They apparently modeled one after you and it's apparently still alive." They turned to the screen watching the Clove mutt, who was apparently acting like a scout, as it headed back into the maze.

"Story goes that they extracted our DNA the same time they removed our trackers after the games," Clove pointed out, "that's why they're modeled after victors. Why there aren't any based on male victors is something I don't get yet, but that thing you fought was a hit. That's why there are so many more of them this year."

"But even with those creeps… the arena itself is a nightmare." Ava insisted, "there's fire in the north and floods and fog in the south."

"It's sinisterly brilliant if you ask me," Clove indicated, "it's a deathtrap disguised as a maze. Those remaining tributes have invested a lot of smarts just to stay alive, which says something in this day and age. There used to be a time when they would let the tributes die of hunger or thirst. It's pretty gruesome, but also a hell of a lot less exciting for the Capitol than watching them duke it out."

Normally Ava might have said something, but perhaps she too had been desensitized to it all. It was a very interesting thought. Just barely a year ago, she had been in this same situation. Just barely a year ago, she had put her best friend Chel Colorado out of her misery to end the 91st Annual Hunger Games. Hardly two weeks ago, she had been putting up with her sassy tribute pair, who were now in the final 6. She had thought she would be more excited about it, but she didn't like their attitudes, especially not Monica's. By contrast, she too liked the relationship between the District 2 pair.

The bright and sunny afternoon was frightening in its own twisted, malevolent way, however. Besides the four remaining Night Witches on the prowl, Monica and Rafael had gone on the warpath, searching for Dante and Cherry.

It was not until the mid-afternoon that something particularly frightening happened.

"Fog!" Monica exclaimed, "Get back!"

The District 12 pair fled from the encroaching fog, zigzagging through the maze, heading at a slight northwest direction. They knew there was only so much distance they could go this way until they reached what was very likely District 11's lair, or the fires that were consuming the northern half of the maze at the moment. Neither one seemed like a very appealing option.

However, sooner or later, the maze ended up leading them into a corner, with the fog approaching them on either side. Both tributes braced themselves for the worst, only to find that this fog was… humid. It felt like perfectly normal fog.

"Are you alright, Monica?" Rafael asked.

"I'm fine," the girl shrugged, "can't really see too far ahead, but this fog isn't hurting me. I can still focus pretty clearly too, and my body doesn't feel weird at all."  
"Hmm," he shrugged, "maybe this was actual fog, after all."

But no sooner had the fog engulfed them, when there was a rumbling noise all around them. There were noises, but the rumbling wasn't strong enough to knock the tributes off of their feet—it mostly just felt like a large vibration. However, it persisted for several minutes. The fog was too thick to see much else around them.

"You think they're tearing down the maze?" Rafael suggested,

"A tribute can dream," Monica chuckled. "they're doing something big to it though."

"Why would they want to save their finale for when there are only a handful of tributes left to see it?" Rafael tilted his head, "or are they building up to a finale?"

"Rafael, did you even watch the 91st Hunger Games at all? this is a recap of that. Remember—the last minute arena flooding; the gigantic bird mutt… crazy shit like that is bound to happen on the last day. Then hopefully they start collapsing the arena so we can end that wild goose chase against Dante and Cherry that has taken us weeks."

But before they could think much about it, the rumbling stopped, and slowly, even the fog dissipated. Finally, Rafael and Monica got to see what had happened.

It was something that should have been serene and beautiful, but rather, was sinister and foreboding. The maze had been restored to a grassy terrain that actually looked like a legitimate hedge maze.

"Change of plans," Monica insisted, "we head north."

However, after reaching the cornucopia, their hopes of finding the remaining career tributes were dashed then and there. Not only had the supplies all long since been plundered, but the two tributes were gone. Without any tributes or supplies present, the cornucopia was little more than a landmark in the arena. There was only one thing that struck them as odd.

"I don't remember the cornucopia being on a slightly raised patch of ground," the boy quipped.

"Who knows?" Monica chuckled, "maybe it'll become a mountain for a bone-crushingly epic finale. It's probably secretly a volcano or something."

And yet speaking of volcanoes, as they went northward past the cornucopia, all of the effects of the fire and the underground volcano that had dominated the northwest corner of the maze, were all gone. The only water sources were these odd little drinking fountains all over again, and the hedges seemed to produce berries of some sort.

What sort of Gamemaker trap do you suppose this is," Monica raised an eyebrow.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Rafael quipped, "Maybe it's just an ordinary deceptive trick they're using to try and throw us off."

This seemed fairly likely, since there was no sign of any kind of life anywhere else in the arena. There we no tributes, and not even any mutts. This aggravated Monica though. Where was District 2 and District 11, and why there had not been any encounters with them by now?

Miles away in the Capitol, this 'arena overhaul' was seen in plain detail by the rest of Panem.

"What are they trying to pull?" Clove threw her hand angrily towards the television.

"This is exactly like my games were," Ava warned, "everything seemed calm and normal, despite the imminent danger looming overhead. They are preparing for a wicked finale of some sort. I just know it."

Clove paused, putting her hand to her chin for a moment.

"You have a point, actually." She nodded, "the 91st Hunger Games were actually considered one of the most intense and exciting Hunger Games since the 75th Hunger Games. That one was truly hard to top."

"Humility from you, Clove?" Ava raised an eyebrow, "I'd never have guessed."  
"That kind of sarcasm could kill a tribute where she stood, kiddo." Clove retorted, but then stopped. The screen had focused again on District 12, who had wandered far to the western edge of the maze. The sun was going down, and clouds were gathering in the sky. They appeared to be holding their hands out against the western wall of the maze. They instead rebounded to the wall across from it, and began scaling the hedges again, until they were at the top, precariously balanced on the sturdy but still dangerous hedges.

"These hold surprisingly well," Rafael quipped, glancing westward, "and I think we reached the edge of the arena."  
The western hedges that they had just been touching extended far higher than any of the others. By situating themselves on top of the 'walls' of the maze, it allowed Rafael and Monica to see the arena from a different perspective. Off in the distance in all directions were these taller hedges, which appeared to form the walls of the arena.

"Well then," Monica pulled out her bow, "Let's try something." She shot an arrow above the walls west of them, where it shattered and rebounded. The district 12 pair was oddly quiet at this.

Monica paused, turning to Rafael. "It can be done."

"We need to move," the boy shook his head, "if we're at the fringes of the arena this late into the games, guess who the Gamemakers are going to target first?"  
Monica paused, scanning the area.  
"That way!" she pointed south, to where there was a slight rustling of the massive hedges. It was either a tribute or a monster, though they were assuming the former. The problem then, was that the rustling soon stopped, and District 12 had to climb off the hedges to prevent making too much noise. The skies grew darker as evening approached.

The end of the 92nd Annual Hunger Games was nigh.


	25. Chapter 25: Unveiled Malice

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _I found the 92nd Hunger Games Arena to be rather entertaining simply because of the amount of intrigue and mystery that surrounds it. It's almost as if the Gamemakers are purposely playing off of the tributes' fears and concerns, as are tweaking the arena accordingly. On the other hand, we do finally get to learn what became of District 11, and let me tell you folks-it ain't pretty._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 25: Unveiled Malice**

Marcus and Amy woke up as the sun went down, and knew that something was off. They crawled out of the cornucopia, where miraculously, no one had found them. Had she known how close Monica and Rafael had been to spotting them, she would have thanked her lucky stars for their luck. Killing a sleeping tribute was like shooting fish in a barrel.

"Something's not right here," Marcus shook his head as he glanced around.

"You noticed it too?" Amy raised an eyebrow,

"Aye; well for one thing, look at where we are. The cornucopia area was not perched on this little hill. How the heck did we sleep through that?"  
"Well, dealing with people like Monica can take the energy out of anyone. We—"

She paused. The anthem began to play for the evening.

"Hopefully we didn't sleep through any other cannons, eh?" Marcus joked, "Or maybe we should hope we did. We wouldn't have to worry about Monica."

But instead of seeing Monica, Rafael, Cherry, or Dante, the faces were those from the morning.

_Asher Carrol, District 3…_

"I still can't believe that that was only this morning," Amy sighed, "less than 24 hours ago we were evenly matched with the outlying alliance. Now they've got two tributes ahead of us."  
"Well, look at the pattern here," Marcus suggested, pausing as the 2nd face appeared.

_Shaft Monroe, District 3…_

"Almost every district has lost both of its tributes side-by-side except for a couple in the bloodbath. District 1 and District 8 fell together, and then District 3. We've got two known factions here:" ourselves and District 12. The fact that we haven't even caught a glimpse of District 11 even during Monica's attacks has me theorizing—maybe they broke off from District 12 already."

"A three-way assault," Amy put her hand to her chin. Had she been male and been older, she might have been stroking her beard right about now. "I wonder who '12 would go after if they saw us squaring off against '11? I bet they'd still go after us."

"Maybe it's just me," Marcus added, "but since we still have water, I suggest we stick around. We're in unarguably the safest spot in the arena right now."

"I like that idea," Amy remarked, "except we're also out in the open. I want to see if anything else has changed during our nap."  
Marcus paused, considering his options. "You're the smart one," he ruffled her hair, grunting as he pulled himself to his feet. Similar to his partner, he had removed his shoes as well. "Just tell this big lunk where to point his sword and we'll be good." With that, he hefted his gigantic, trusty sword back over his back, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the stone that he had as his tribute token. He gave it a kiss, pocketing it. Naturally, Amy tilted her head.

"What was that all about?"  
"Good luck," Marcus chuckled, "you want to give it a shot?" he produced the stone again.

"I'll pass," Amy elbowed him, "come on. Let's get moving."

Instead of going south where Cherry, Dante, Monica, and Rafael were, however, they went north again. They were surprised to find that the fires, and even the volcano, were completely absent, and the maze was entirely flat once they had descended from the cornucopia perch.

"Y'know what's scary?" Amy turned to her partner,

"This is," Marcus agreed, taking the words right out of Amy's mouth, "why would they go through so much trouble just to put everything back the way it was?"

"Because," Amy noted, "this map doesn't match where we're going. They've changed the maze on us!"

"Well shit!" Marcus exclaimed, before looking up at the cloudy skies. A parachute with the number 2 was floating down towards them. Marcus, being the taller of the two, grabbed it and opened it. Inside were a pair of (full) water bottles, and a note. Marcus' eyes widened when he read it.

"We need to get going—now." He warned, and without question, handed Amy the note and took off running. Despite the boy having much longer legs than Amy, the tiny girl was swift and caught up to him quickly, reading the note in the process.

"_Get out of there. Get back to the cornucopia now." –C–_

There was an eerie nose from somewhere behind them, catching up to them. Amy turned around briefly and saw what it was immediately.

"DON'T TOUCH THE WALLS!" she screamed. Circulating through the hedges was a light—a blue, electric-colored light. Marcus didn't even need to be told this, but instantly, the two of them thought about Rafael and Monica. If they were on the walls when this hit, they would likely be fried. This was not an illusion, unless the fog was colorless and odorless this time.

"Why electricity," Marcus groaned, yanking Amy onto his shoulders, where oddly, he started bolting at a faster pace, "why does it have to be electricity?"

The two career tributes arrived safely at the cornucopia, crouching in the mouth of the giant golden horn, their weapons drawn. Surely the Gamemakers were trying to draw them together.

What happened with all the electricity in the maze, however, had some interesting effects on the arena. The forcefield alone consumed great amounts of power, but combining that with the electricity that now surged through every wall of the entire maze, and the consumption surged. Unbeknownst to the tributes, was causing brownouts and blackouts in Districts 12, 11, and 4 (which were farthest from the Capitol), with the obvious exception of course, being the televised Hunger Games. District 3, while similarly far away, had emergency generators that kept the entire district up and running.

The result of such a high power usage, however, caused surges of color to flow through the artificial night sky, much to the amusement of the tributes. Somewhere during this show, however, the tributes both fell asleep, leaning against their weapons.

Despite their vulnerable state, they slept well into the next morning, where the sun was already high in the sky. Day 14 had begun. Amy and Marcus both felt that this would be it.

"If there's one thing the Hunger Games have taught me," Marcus quipped, noticing the occasional surge of power through the arena sky as they drank some of their water, "It's that time has no meaning. I don't think we slept all evening into midday."

"I don't either," Amy glanced up at the sky, watching the shadow of the cornucopia. "I think that they are rushing through this day—as if warning us that it is going to get darker."

Sure enough, as they waited, the clouds returned, and the sun began setting within an hour.

"We'll bring them to us," Marcus reassured Amy, hugging the smaller girl. To his slight surprise, she hugged him back as the sky rapidly grew dark.

"This may be the last time we ever see each other," Amy warned, "I think the Gamemakers are trying to end it today."

"It'd make sense," Marcus nodded, "most Hunger Games since the Quarter Quell have lasted 14 days—sometimes 15. However, with the lack of deaths, and that afternoon that seemed unusually long, I'm pretty sure that this is the end."

Amy sighed. "Well, it had to happen sooner or later, right?"  
"But of course," Marcus ran his fingers through Amy's hair. "It's the name of the game."

"This might seem weird for me to say, Marcus," Amy confessed, "but I suppose any confessions at this point are deathbed confessions for one of us."

"The Hunger Games do funny things to people, Amy," Marcus smiled, placing his massive hands on Amy's cheeks, "Hopeless as it might be, somewhere during this maze-running madness, I think I fell in love with you."

"I owe you more than I can begin to describe," the tiny girl admitted, "I love you, Marcus. You're the reason I'm alive right now."

"I don't think I would have gotten very far without you," Marcus reassured her, "maybe we're both using the whole 'I love you' term a bit hastily, but either way—know that I learned how to use my head after seeing you do the same thing."

"Well," Amy chuckled, "seems we've both rubbed off on each other… but it's far too early to be turning on each other yet. Let District 11 and District 12 come. We need to deal with them first and settle a few old scores, don't you think?" she brandished a knife, the black-grey skies overhead flickering sometimes with a streak of dim purple or blue.

"I think that once again, Amy Zavala, you have the right ideas and the best ideas." He picked up his sword. "Let's be ready."

Sure enough, they did not have to wait terribly long before something happened. From the south (once again) four pairs of red eyes emerged, and two silhouettes emerged from behind them.

"Well, well," the voices called out. It was Dante and Cherry, with the former wielding a sword and the latter wielding a pair of hammers.

"I was wondering when they'd finally force us out." Dante smirked.

"Are you career kids ready to rock 'n roll?" Cherry added, licking her lips.

"Couldn't be moreso," Amy cracked her knuckles as she pulled out her knives. "Let's do this."


	26. Chapter 26: Undetected, Unexpected

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _While some things in this chapter might not make sense, let me assure you that this is in fact going somewhere. Dante and Cherry might be approaching what could very well be their final moments, but let it not be said that they didn't know what they were getting into. The career tributes might be the ones to get the special training before the games, but that doesn't mean they're the only ones with smarts._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 26: Undetected; Unexpected**

Despite the dimness of the light, Amy noticed something odd about both the District 11 pair and about the Night Witches that were fighting at their side. For one, the night Witches seemed devoid of honey, and for two, Dante and Cherry had something dark red smeared over most of their mouths, from their noses to their chins. They were also elusively staying out of the battle while the four Night Witches combatted the two career tributes. Marcus unleashed swing after mighty swing at the creatures, but they were swift and resilient. They were more suited for Amy's style of fighting, but even when Amy was able to land s strike at them, they were able to get right back up. What they needed was a cross between Marcus' strength and Amy's agility.

The mutt resembling Zenzi Tallarico from the 80th Hunger Games was coming at Marcus in full, relentless force, trying to slash the gigantic boy right apart. Amy was not about to let that happen, and so after kicking the Paige mutt in the face, she whipped out one of her few remaining throwing knives and threw it with the same type of force that her other ones had been out. This was the same ferociously strong type of throw that she had used against the District 10 boy in the bloodbath, which had nearly beheaded him within 9 seconds of him leaving his platform.

Since the mutt was so focused on Marcus, it did not see the blade coming until its neck was nearly severed in two. The glowing red eyes dimmed, and the creature was dead.

"Thanks," Marcus chuckled, wiping his forehead with his free arm before gripping his sword again, "I owe you one, Amy."

"Let's worry about debts after we kill the other three witches—and District 11."

It seemed that no matter what way they tried to approach Dante and Cherry, that the Night Witches were doing everything they could to prevent that. It had Amy curious—what had they done to gain the unwavering loyalty of these creatures? Sure the Clove-mutt had been "loyal" to them as long as they had had honey for it, but none of these seemed to have any honey on their faces, and yet they were following nonverbal orders from the manipulative District 11 pair. Perhaps there was another way to control them that no one else knew about—or they liked Cherry and Dante's scents. Neither Marcus nor Amy knew of it at this point, and were not too concerned. What they were more worried about was being able to fend off these ferocious creatures—and wondering where District 12 had gone. If Amy and Marcus got too absorbed in this fight, Monica could come up right behind them and shoot them then and there. That would certainly not be a death that the perfect-scoring District 2 pair would want.

Maybe it was just Amy's imagination, but the mutts appeared to be just slightly less skilled than the tributes they faced. There had to be an explanation for why they hadn't died been killed by these things yet. They did feel very much like fighting other tributes, except that other tributes were usually not this bloodthirsty, and those that were would usually say something or taunt as their enemies were cut down.

As the struggle continued, Marcus unleashed a mighty blow against the Clove mutt, making a joke in the process in a typical Marcus fashion.

"Such is the name of the game," he quipped, although a moment later, it had just gotten that much more intense. Cherry and Dante jumped right into the fray, still issuing their commands as they attacked. Paige and Katniss were still at large, and so it was a 4-on-2 all over again. Both Amy and Marcus could feel pain, however, as the District 11 pair landed lightning swift strikes on them. Thankfully they weren't bleeding the careers out or breaking their bones, but Dante's sword slices stung like mad, and Cherry's hammer strikes would definitely leave some nasty bruises.

However, after several more minutes of this locked combat, something happened that none of them had apparently anticipated. An arrow appeared right through the neck of one of the Night Witches (the Katniss one, to be exact), and it distracted the others, including the remaining creature, long enough for Amy to gut it with her knives. They turned in the direction of the arrow, however, and saw exactly who they expected to see.

"We couldn't let you have all the fun," a girl's voice quipped, and out of the shadows of the electrical maze stepped Rafael and Monica.

"As much as we'd like to kill you," Monica turned to the District 2 pair, "I want these backstabbing sunuvabitches dead first." Without so much as another word, she and her partner charged Dante and Cherry, which did in fact confirm Marcus and Amy's suspicions—District 11 had backed out of the outlying alliance early on.

On the other hand, Amy could tell why. They were fast, strong, and independent, and despite their scores of only 9, they were holding off against some of the highest-scoring tributes in the arena.

A second later, the District 11 pair retreated, beelining it for the corpse of the Katniss mutt, picking it up by the wrist. Their next action was odd and somewhat disgusting. Either they were licking its wrist, or doing something with its blood. Given the stuff on their faces form earlier, it seemed to be the latter.

"The hell," Amy cringed, as the girl swung her hammer so swiftly that Monica's arrow got deftly deflected, "what ARE you?"

"There is more to the Night Witches than meets the eye," Cherry explained, licking her lips again as she twirled her hammers as if to show off. "It's in the blood."

Slowly the gears in Amy's head began turning before they clicked. There was something in the Night Witches' blood that was apparently working wonders on the speed and reflexes of the District 11 pair. It had to be something like that, at least.

"Riddle me this," she pressed her advance towards Dante and Cherry, with Marcus at her side.

"Oh, I don't think we will," Dante smirked, "I think we're going to take our secret to the grave."  
"You don't even know what we're gonna ask," Amy shook her head, "Marcus, would you…"

In a brief distraction, Marcus swung and would have cloven Dante in two had Cherry not shoved him out of the way and scrambled away herself. They were both backflipping skillfully towards one of the maze corridors. If they made it there they could easily escape, but they knew that there was no escape. 5 of them were going to die here by the time all was said and done, and both of them wanted to make sure that they were not among those five, even if at least one of them had to die.

"I've never seen kids this fast!" Marcus exclaimed, as the elusive tributes evaded him, Amy, and the District 12 pair, "I wonder what they did."  
"I'm more curious about how they seized control of the Night Witches without the honey," Amy raised an eyebrow, dodging a strike from Dante's sword, "I do not think that was something Zurok planned."

"oooh… you're definitely getting close," Cherry smirked. "We reprogrammed them."

"Really," Amy raised an eyebrow as she cringed, feeling her hip get struck by one of the girl's hammers,

"I… ooof… thought that District 3 was the techy one."

"This trick doesn't need tech," Dante smirked, coming down on Amy with a sword that Marcus deflected, sending the boy sprawling. Another odd thing that they noticed was that District 12 had disappeared again. That was not a good sign, but the lightning-swift District 11 pair didn't seem to notice it. They had found their targets and were fixated on it.

Amy felt helpless in the situation, because she knew what Rafael and Monica were trying to do—they were hoping to let Marcus and Amy do the dirty work against Dante and Cherry and then they hoped to come in and finish the job after they were weakened. A cunning District 3 boy had done that a few years prior during the 88th Hunger Games and it had managed to propel him to victory.

On the other hand, she couldn't just run from the assailants, because they would do her and Marcus in if they turned away for even a second. That blinding speed of theirs was definitely giving the District 2 pair a significant workout.

After further observation, however, Amy realized what was going on, and suddenly realized just how cunning that this pair of tributes was.

"Marcus, pull back; play defensive!" she warned. Even though Dante and Cherry could hear that plan, it did significantly ease the gigantic boy's stress load as he managed to block their attacks easier than their counterattacks.

"We need to kill 'em," he panted, glancing at the pair who were scampering around, trying to circle Amy and Marcus as they looked for an opening. Amy and Marcus stood back to back, following them.

"they're using our weapons against us," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth, "just as they were doing with those Capitol Mutts…"


	27. Chapter 27: Meeting Fate

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Smash Bros came out a couple days ago, and it is the reason I didn't post a chapter two days ago. Anyhoo, the 92nd Hunger Games are drawing to a close, and so there are a good handful of deaths in this chapter. The next one will most likely be the final showdown. Pick your side, and may the odds of your favorite tribute winning... be ever in your favor._

**CHAPTER 27: Meeting Fate**

If there was anything to say about District 11 this year, it was that they were vicious and abnormally fast. Marcus was almost fully convinced that the weird blood-drinking thing they had done had been part of why they were so fast. It was extremely difficult to tell what they were trying to pull, but it seemed that they were having moderate success. District 11 was notorious in recent years for producing dangerous and cunning tributes, with their most recent victor being only 3 years ago.

But what worried Amy more than Dante and Cherry, was District 12. They had disappeared, which meant that they were still somewhere out there, probably waiting to pick off the other tributes. The walls of the maze, while no longer flashing entirely blue, still did seem to have a soft surge of blue to them from the electricity, so thankfully that meant that Rafael and Monica were not going to be able to use the walls to climb up and snipe the other tributes.

However, it did seem that District 11 had walked into a trap. District 12 popped back in again, trying to flank Dante and Cherry with Marcus and Amy's help. They began to close in on the lightning-swift District 11 pair, who backed closer and closer together. Their eyes darted around in the dimness, looking for a way out.

Deciding that Amy would be the easiest target to knock down, they charged her so quickly that the tiny girl hardly saw it coming. She defended herself, slashing the girl's arm on the way out, but it was not enough to faze either of them. They raced towards the walls, where Amy started formulating a plan on how to get rid of them. If they should just get slammed against the electrified hedges, perhaps they could be done in. They almost seemed too fast to keep up with, but Marcus, Monica, and Rafael seemed to have put aside their differences and gone for them

Amy glanced down at one of the Night Witch corpses, the formerly glowing red eyes of the creature having gone dim. Amy put her lips to the right arm of the creature, where it had had a gaping wound from Marcus' blade. Pausing for just a moment, she looked up and then back down.

"Welp, Clove mutt-thingy… time for you to be useful one last time…"

It felt weird, and perhaps a bit savage, to know she was essentially drinking another creature's blood, but a moment later, her regrets dissipated. It was sweet to the taste, and almost like a drug. Maybe it was a steroid of some sort, but Amy felt stronger, but more noticeably, faster. The District 11 pair still had the blinding speed, but the dark drink was still enough to give her a taste of power that she needed. It was definitely something she would want to look into if she emerged from this nightmare alive.

If there was something else to say about the District 12 pair, it was that they were opportunists. As soon as they had cornered the District 11 pair, Rafael took off, and Monica was right behind him. Neither of the two remaining careers had any idea what their game plan was, but they knew that it wouldn't be pretty. Cherry and Dante were starting to get on their nerves though, and so Marcus continued to swing his gigantic sword in hopes of disarming them, or better yet, cleaving them right apart.

Cornered between the angry District 2 pair and the electrified walls was not enough to faze these two tributes, however. Instead, they put the metallic sides of their gloves against the wall before throwing punches. Bolts of electricity emerged from their arms, which stunned Amy for a moment because of her tinier frame. Marcus was able to shake it off, and this was when he finally struck. Dante moved towards Amy to finish her off, but Marcus intercepted him, his sword now sticking through the boy's gut. A cannon fired, and immediately, his face appeared in the night sky.

_Dante Daniels, District 11…_

How long would it last? The 92nd Annual Hunger Games were definitely drawing to a close. Amy couldn't see it from where she stood, but most of the other methods of escape had been cut off. Luckily it seemed none of the other tributes wished to use them at this point. Even District 12 was not trying to escape, but rather hide in the shadows.

The loss of her partner seemed to be exactly what Cherry needed for her to slip up only a few minutes later. She froze upon nearly slipping over his body, which gave Amy just enough time to do her in, throwing her last knife at her chest, where it impaled her, and she landed flat on her back. So accurate was her shot that Cherry also died instantly, causing another cannon to fire. Dante's face had hardly disappeared, when Cherry's face replaced it.

_Cherry Valdez, District 11…_

However, Amy and Marcus knew that their time of celebration would never exist. Even if they did managed to defeat District 12, which had probable odds in District 2's favor despite the District 12 tributes' rather high scores, they would then have to turn on each other.

"Stay close," Amy warned, crouching down, the gigantic boy doing the same. "There's no telling where Monica is at this point, and now that her enemies are gone, I don't exactly think she's going to emerge from the shadows to shake our hands and congratulate us."

Marcus sighed, crouching down next to his smaller partner. "So this is how it ends… trapped in an electric maze…"

"I'm gonna miss you, you great oaf," Amy elbowed him playfully, cracking a chuckle. She had kind of had to force it, but there was something about Marcus that made the smaller girl smile.

"I'm gonna miss you too, kid," he put his arm around Amy, "you've got sharp eyes and a sharp mind. We might have lost friends in this arena… District 1… District 3… but we'll pull out of this. District 2 is going to see a victor today… even if that victor drank the blood of a Night Witch to do it."  
"There are no rules to a killing game," Amy quipped, "but don't count yourself yet either, y'hear?"

"not until my dying breath," Marcus promised, pecking Amy on the nose. "keep your eyes alert and don't lean too far back. That electricity will zap us just as easily as it could zap the others."  
Amy nodded slowly, glancing out into the darkness. The cornucopia was barely visible in the deep black, contrasted by the light blue of the humming electricity, which was still causing blackouts in three districts. Any sign of movement would be detected. Rafael and Monica were close—very close.

"Look up, Marcus," Amy whispered. Up in the sky, through the clouds, were patches of clear sky with stars in them (since Cherry's face had disappeared). They knew that rightfully it would probably be around midday, but that the Gamemakers were playing tricks on them as they often did. Even if it was an artificial sky, it was still beautiful.

"The 92nd Annual Hunger Games are almost over," Marcus reassured her, "Soon we'll be able to see the sky again—the real sky."

As they sat there, a sponsor gift floated down towards them. Amy opened it up (for it did have a number 2 on it) and found…  
"Wire…?" Amy tilted her head, until she read the note.

"_Keep your hands on this…" –C–_

Amy wrapped the wire around her hands, shrugging at Marcus. "I can only assume that this is what she means," she remarked, "Otherwise I have no idea what this means…"

A moment later, Marcus shouted. A blade had come right for his throat, and he countered it by swinging his sword, jumping to his feet, and throwing the weapon in the direction of his attacker. A cannon shot off a second later. The face of Marcus' latest victim appeared simultaneously.

_Rafael West, District 12…_

Marcus and Amy immediately stood back to back. They were not afraid, but they did want to kill Monica before she found them. Surely she knew that her partner had failed in his surprise attack given that his face was now in the sky.

However, Rafael was not the only boy to not see an attack coming. There was the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air that caught Marcus off guard just enough that he could not raise his sword in time. Amy spun around a moment too late, seeing everything in slow motion, as the arrow struck Marcus's throat.

Amy was not sure if she had even screamed or not. All she saw was her best friend, slowly tumbling backwards, and onto his back.

"K-kill her… for… me…" Marcus wheezed, using what was probably his final breath. "…Amy." A moment later, she glanced into the sky, where Rafael's face had disappeared.

_Marcus Romero, District 2…_

"MONICA!" Amy roared, fire in her eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down her seething anger. However, no one appeared, causing Amy to clench her knives tighter.

As if it couldn't get any worse, Amy heard the sound of thunder. It seemed that the Capitol was going all out with this electric theme—for Amy had to jump back to prevent getting struck by a bolt of lightning.


	28. Chapter 28: A Victor Determined

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**_ without spoiling anything, the musical piece I would recommend for this finale (starting with when the last tribute is killed) would be the 28th and final track ("Arena Crumbles") from the Catching Fire film score._  
_Given my miserable track record of updating this thing steadily, I'll probably stick with the "every 2 days" thing with the Victory Tour as well, but that might change. who knows? Otherwise, welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the thrilling conclusion of the 92nd Annual Hunger Games, where Amy either avenges her fallen partner... or joins him. We have ourselves a victor by the end..._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 28: A Victor Determined**

The lightning illuminated what was left of the arena, and in the flash, Monica's sinister grin was illuminated. In her hands she carried a pair of crescent blades from one of the Night Witches. Realizing that she was unarmed, Amy rushed back towards one of the fallen creatures, snatching up a pair of them herself.

"And this, Amy, my friend," Monica taunted, "is where I kill you. Don't worry—I'm not going to try and do it slowly like Iris. I plan on making this swift, albeit painful."

She slashed at the tinier girl, but Amy was much too quick. There was an odd, surreal feeling to all of this that was happening around them. The rain, the lightning, the Night Witches… even knowing that Marcus was now dead had done its part against Amy's emotional well-being. However, she knew that this fighter from District 12 would need to die if she was ever going to be able to send the message that she had promised to all of Panem to send. If she failed here, she would fall into the crevices of forgettable history. She also needed to make sure that Marcus did not suffer that same fate. She had to avenge him as well, and that meant staying alive.

"It makes me curious," Monica continued, putting pressure on the District 2 girl, "is this going to mark the 2nd year in a row where a girl from District 12 offs both of the tributes from the Capitol's favorite district? It's no mystery that they love District 2 the best."  
"Why don't you let your blade or your bow do the talking?" Amy suggested, taking the defensive, crossing those crescent blades over her face and chest. She had hardly said this when Monica lunged forward, avoiding a lightning strike and attacking Amy. Both tributes were wickedly swift and deceptively strong.

"I would, but everyone can see the truth of your grim situation, Amy Zavala," Monica warned, "all your friends are dead. Everyone sees the reality here—that you're going to die."  
"Just because they think reality is that way does not make it so..." Amy retorted without skipping a beat, and landing a slash at Monica's injured hand. It had since healed from the time that Amy had sliced Monica's bowstring (and obviously the girl had fixed her bow).

"But more importantly than that," Amy continued, "you just killed my best friend. Hunger Games or not, I loved him, and I wish for nothing short of death to come upon you." Marcus' death had been so sudden that Amy had not really even had a chance to properly react to it, let alone give the boy the respect he deserved.

"I'll make you eat those words," Monica countered, and to Amy's sudden shock and surprise, she felt a painful stabbing feeling on both sides of her lips, followed by the trickling of liquid warmth from both corners. Monica had somehow slashed Amy right in the mouth. If the tiny girl hadn't bent backwards, the top half of her head might have been gone.

Whatever the case, it certainly prevented Amy from talking anymore, and so Monica's rambling and taunting would just have to be put up with. Every slash and cut that she dished out to Monica seemed to be returned to her as well, being counterattacked, or Monica simply let her have the opening while she slashed at one of Amy's vulnerabilities.

"You could have just done this the simple way and died already," Monica grunted as her blades collided with Amy's, and the two girls had some kind of grappling match as they tried to throw each other down onto their backs, "you can meet your lover again."  
"Riddle me this," Amy shoved Monica down, trying to pin the larger girl with limited success, but she was at least preventing her from getting back onto her feet, "what did they have to do to you and take from you to twist you into the twisted demented psychopath that would have made District 4's iris Durango proud? How did Junichi Thatch pulling your name out of a glass bowl turn you into a sadistic little monster?" Amy had metaphorically bitten the bullet and dealt with the pain in her lips, spitting blood onto Monica's face as she spoke (unintentionally, though).

"no one decent ever wins the games," Monica grunted, trying to throw Amy off of her, but the tiny girl was able to use her deceptive strength (that she had successfully used against Luster in the training center a few weeks ago) to keep her down, even if she couldn't finish her, "There are not ever even any winners—there are only survivors. You see, Amy Zavala… I'm here to win this so I can be the nastiest and most brutal, bloodthirsty motherfucker this side of Enobaria Taos to remind Panem of that. Tell me… you were the one preaching about your so-called message to everyone from Caesar Flickerman to the cracks of District 6. What was this message, and why is it so important?"

Amy paused for just a second, but that was all Monica needed to flip them over. The grapple continued, although Amy seemed more adept at preventing Monica from stabbing her. In fact, all of a sudden, Amy realized how this malice could finally end. For a moment, she gazed up at the sky, where Marcus' face only now started to fade away.

Grunting, Amy threw Monica off of her, and unraveled the wire around one of her hands. She threw it at Monica, who grabbed it and yanked it, wrapping it around her hand as well.

Amy realized that this had been a stupid idea, as she lurched forward thanks to it being wrapped around her hand as well, and so she ate a face full of the grassy floor of the arena. She instantly rolled onto her back so she wouldn't be too vulnerable to the District 12 girl, who had unsurprisingly lunged at the opportunity. But, instead of stabbing her, Monica started dragging the smaller girl towards the electrified walls of the maze. Monica was going to fry Amy, plain and simple.

Immediately, the struggling girl got to work fiddling with the wire. This was literally do or die, and about as bad as it got. Monica's grip and focus were rock-steady and so even with Amy's violent jerking against the bond was not enough to faze her.

"It's a shame it has to end like this," Monica quipped, still walking (she knew better than to stop and monologue, after all—many arrogant tributes had been slain this way) "I've done what I needed to do. Amy… embrace the inevitability of your imminent death, and know deep in your heart that there's nothing your friend Marcus—or anyone else—can do to save you."

However, there was one fatal flaw in the wire plan that Monica had overlooked. The wire was not bound to Amy's wrist—just wrapped around it. As she was being dragged to the electrified wall, she unraveled the wire from both of her hands, and wrapped it into a ball. She would have used her knives as extra weight, but she had been disarmed. Instead, she threw the ball of wire towards the electrical walls of the maze, knowing full well it was still wrapped around Monica's right arm.

Monica saw what was happening split-seconds before it happened, and she knew that she had screwed up big time. This was her slow-motion moment the same way Marcus' death was for Amy.

The ball of wire hit the electric wall, travelled up Monica's arm, and paralyzed the girl, allowing Amy time to jump to her feet. The cannon had not fired, and so Amy made her move. She jumped, slamming her feet into Monica's chest, knocking the District 12 girl into the wall of the maze, where aloud crackling noise was made, as well as one final scream of agony as Monica's life force was zapped right out of her. A moment later, the (now) frizzy-haired tribute keeled over, and the cannon fired, showing a face in the sky that Amy would forever remember.

_Monica Savage, District 12…_

This was the 2nd year in a row where the Hunger Games had come down to two girls: one from District 12 and the other from District 2—except this year was the opposite of the year before it.

There was several minutes of silence, and by this point, Amy was at Marcus' side. She was not sobbing, but she was racked with emotion at seeing the lifeless face of the jolly, golden-hearted young man that really, she had fallen in love with. She shifted his body just a bit, and heard the faint noise of something hitting the ground. She reached for it, and found that it was Marcus' stone—his little tribute token.

She pocketed it instantly. Covered in blood, the tiny girl waited. A moment after Monica's face disappeared, hers showed up in the sky.

_Amy Zavala, District 2…_

Amy knew what was happening here—it was not an error of any kind; just a procedure. Moments later, fiery letters that were very much readable, appeared beneath her name.

_VICTOR._

"Ladies and gentlemen," Amy heard he announcement over a loudspeaker. "The victor of the 92nd Annual Hunger Games: Amy Zavala of District 2."

At the moment though, nothing was really even going through her head. Everything was just a big blank. Nothing really made sense anymore. Marcus faded; the corpses of Dante, Cherry, Rafael, and Monica all faded. The electricity in the walls of the maze, as well as the sky, the cornucopia, and the arena, all just disappeared. Amy felt like she was sitting in an abyss of blackness, surrounded by nothing. It was a very surreal feeling.

So this was what a victor felt like… did they all feel this detached? She could only wonder at this point, though there would be plenty of people to ask, for her district had many that had come before her.

Amy was now the 16th victor from District 2.


	29. Chapter 29: Embracing Fate

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _and thus begins the more expositional phase of the story as we see how our new victor adjusts to her life as... well, a victor. We also will get to see plenty of the districts once again, and the remaining chapters will lay groundwork for the sequel (yes, there's a 93rd Hunger Games in the works)._  
_We'll also get to see what's up with Clove's diverse personality and where it comes from, so stay tuned for that too. _  
_Happy Reading!_

**PART III: THE MESSAGE**

**CHAPTER 29: Embracing Fate**

The scene surrounding Amy felt horribly surreal. Here she was surrounded by the corpses of her enemies, as well as her best friend. The electricity flowing through the walls of the maze began to subside, and the arena began to light up with an imitation of morning.

The tiny girl looked up and noticed two hovercraft approaching them. She knew what they were for: one was for her, and the other was to pick up the bodies of the other fallen tributes.

"I'm sorry, Marcus…" Amy whispered, holding the boy's head in her lap as if he was still alive to hear her speak to him, "say hi to Chel for me, 'kay?"

She glanced one more time at Marcus' Capitol stone before putting it back in her pocket and moving away from the bodies to let the hovercrafts do their thing. She sat out in the open, glancing around at the empty cornucopia and the 24 bare pedestals that graced it in a semicircle. This was where it had all begun, and this was where it all had ended.

Oddly enough, Amy didn't cry. She simply gazed at the hovercraft picking up the bodies, watching each one go up. In the light, she saw the blood-covered bodies of Dante and Cherry, with much of that darker-colored liquid most likely being from those mysterious Night Witches. Was their blood some kind of drug? If it was, it was not very addicting, for despite there being traces of it dried onto Amy's lips, she did not crave to try it again. It had been a nice brief high, but that was all it ever needed to be.

After Cherry and Dante were up, next were Rafael and Monica. The boy—the level-headed one of the two, seemed as calm in death as he was in life. It was an interesting sight.

And then there was Monica. Unlike Aveline and Iris, Amy did not have any conflicting feelings for the District 12 girl as she was lifted up to be taken away. Instead, Amy had a strange sense of respect for her enemy, and a slight bit of gratitude for doing to Marcus what Amy might have had trouble doing. The gigantic boy's death still hurt, but she would rather have Marcus' blood on that girl's hands than on her own. Yes, Amy was fairly certain that she would be giving a rather interesting eulogy for her once her victory tour took her to District 12.

Of course, the eulogy for Monica would not be quite as grand as the one that she owed Marcus. Amy was not one to cry a whole lot, but tears did well up in her eyes as she glanced up at the lifeless body of one of her best friends. They had both saved each other's lives on numerous occasions—Marcus' strength and Amy's quick-thinking had made them quite the impressive duo, even after all of their other allies had been killed off by that lethal District 12 pair.

Amy was fairly accepting of her fate, and so remained in her kneeling position with her hands in her lap when the other hovercraft stopped above her, and a couple of Peacekeepers descended to escort her up. She had no reason to resist. There was nothing special about this maze to her. Marcus' body was gone, and his tribute token was in her pocket. She clutched it, sighing as she allowed them to escort her aboard the craft. She had not gotten to say goodbye, and that saddened her a bit. However, his death had been clean and effective, which did make Amy have a bit of compassion for Monica. She didn't buy into the girl's stories of her purposely becoming a sadist. She personally believed that the games drove that creature to her extremes.

Amy was exhausted, injured, and a mess though, and so she glanced around the hovercraft's interior without a whole lot to say. So instead, she turned to the nearest staff member and grunted.

"Put me under," she requested, referring to the anesthetic that almost all victors were given both to remove their tracker from their arm, and to clean up their injuries. Sometimes if a tribute had lost a limb or broken one badly enough, those were things that had to be allowed time to heal. There had been at least one victor that had been so badly messed up (physically) that she had been bound to a wheelchair for even her victory tour while her limbs healed. If Amy recalled, it was a woman from District 1, about 50 years ago.

The last thing Amy remembered was a needle in her neck.

The tiny new victor woke up to find herself dressed in white scrubs, and laying on a hospital bed. She felt clean, and the stinging pains from her injuries were absent. Her eyesight was a bit hazy, but she suspected she was still kind of on a high. When she got up and hit the floor from being unable to stand on her own two feet, her theories were confirmed.

"Welcome to victordom, kid," Amy heard a familiar voice.

"Clove?" she grunted, reaching an expectant hand out in hopes that the mentor would help her to her feet. Sure enough, she felt her arm get tugged. She was still wobbly, and so Clove grabbed her by her hips and sat her back up on the bed.

"You're remarkably easy to carry." The older girl remarked.

"I lost weight in the arena, smartass." Amy retorted dryly.

"Well, you're certainly no Aveline in terms of sarcasm," Clove sighed, "Ah well… I figure I'll find some way to put up with you till District 2 spits out another victor."

Amy actually cracked a weak smile at Clove's remark. Sure Amy was sarcastic now and again (mostly to silly things Marcus would say), but she did admire District 12's Ava Togisala from last year because of her deadpan sarcasm that had persisted throughout the games. Furthermore, the girl had been strong, motivated, and perhaps most notoriously, very smart.

"Hold it," she interrupted her own thoughts, "here you are always bitching about being a mentor, and now you're implying that you're sticking around another year? Clove, if you're not careful, people are going to start thinking you enjoy mentoring."  
"Maybe I do," the older girl quipped, "It's a nice release from the life I lead back home. Remind me though, and I'll carve you a statue of Marcus for your mansion if you want one."

Clove's words were interesting ones, for the woman was actually a rather skilled mason when all was said and done. She wasn't sure how she felt about Marcus' loss yet though. It had happened so quickly and suddenly that they had not even been able to give any real final words other than Marcus' final plea for Amy to win the games. Now that she had done that… well, she wished she could have heard what Marcus thought about all of that.

"I'll think it over," she admitted, "I'm fresh out of the games still, after all…"

"Fair enough," Clove shrugged, sitting next to Amy but not saying anything for a moment, for the younger, newer victor seemed so deep in thought.

"Clove…" Amy began, gazing at her lap, before glancing at the mentor in her red shirt, which bore a black circle bisected by a thick vertical line near the left side and a thinner horizontal one towards the bottom. Her face was strange to look at—on one hand, Amy could see the cunning and confident woman who had won the 74th Hunger Games years ago, but behind that, Amy could see signs of wear that she had not recognized prior to becoming a victor herself.

"Amy…" Clove responded, as if indicating that she had her attention.

"What else is it like?" Amy asked, "Being a victor, I mean. I can't really say I'm nervous, and I'm honestly surprised I'm not an emotional wreck right now. I just feel… empty."  
"Well… friends lost in the games will generally leave that void." Clove shrugged, "take my buddy Cato for example. He was an ass just like I am, but that was why we got along."  
"Marcus wasn't an ass…" Amy paused, "okay, sometimes he was, but it was all in good fun. I've never met a guy who was as jolly as he was. Sheesh… he made jokes at the stupidest and best times…" she sighed almost whimsically, missing the way that gigantic boy would scoop her up and roughhouse her, even if it did slightly embarrass her. She realized now that it was better than his total absence, even if that was what she would have to get used to.

"I remember every tribute that crosses the threshold of the academy," Clove bragged, "Marcus was a good man. He was very much like Chel Colorado from the year before. The Games never changed who he was—he was always that big strong goofball that you knew and loved."

Amy sighed again. "Clove… your personality… it's… well, it's kind of all over the place."  
"I'm aware," the mentor girl shrugged, "but what am I supposed to do about it now? The Capitol doesn't have drugs that consolidate personality traits. If you want I'll explain more of it later though… Call it a hunch, but I think we're pretty close to landing…"

She had hardly said that when the humming of the hovercraft had stopped. They had landed back in the Capitol.


	30. Chapter 30: Crowning the Victor

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _sorry again for the delay. Anyhoo, this is where we get to see Amy's victor crowning, and a lead-up to her final night in the Capitol before she goes home. She does not seem to have suffered as much trauma as Ava did last year, but rest assured that the loses in her life (such as Marcus) haven't just been blown over. They've left their mark._  
_Happy reading!_

**CHAPTER 30: Crowning The Victor**

No sooner had they gotten off the hovercraft and been led towards the underground studios again, when the exhausted little victor ran into Delun, Misaha, and Zakuya, all of whom looked excited as ever to see their newest victor.

"Delun," clove interrupted the excited man who had just wrapped Amy in an excited hug, "don't be too rough on the poor kid. Y'all are cruel for styling her before letting her eat properly."

"aye, I'd definitely seek to change that," Amy grunted, although luckily she did feel a little rested. She must have been out cold or asleep for most of the day, given the current time. "but whatever. Let's just get me into that studio, strip me down and dress me up. As soon as this interview's over I'm gonna grab some grub and hit the sack."

Amy didn't have any qualms with telling the Capitol what she was going to do, because she felt she had earned it, and requesting things like food and rest were not unreasonable, especially not from a new victor, given that almost all of them were deprived of such things in the arenas.

Just like last time, Misaha and Zakuya didn't utter a single word as they quietly worked to clean Amy up a bit more before the girl wrapped herself in a towel and followed them into the dressing room.

Amy closed her eyes, letting her stylists do what they would with her. She felt her hair getting styled a bit, and felt makeup being applied to her face, (high-heeled) shoes to her feet, and a silky gown being put on her body. Only after she was gently tapped on the shoulder did the girl open her eyes.

She was in a shimmering orange gown with streaks of pink and purple, almost reminiscent of a sunset. It had swirls of silver roaming the blouse and sleeves. Amy didn't exactly know what the symbolism was at first, and the silent (but not mute) stylists didn't seem like the type to suddenly start speaking. However, a moment later, she realized that it might have had something to do with twilight—the end of the day as the evening took over. It didn't make sense on its own, but to Amy, who had been dressed in a gown resembling the night sky while her partner had been dressed in a brilliant suit symbolizing daytime, it made all the sense in the world to the tiny girl, and she smirked at seeing her token earrings still on.

"It looks great," she remarked once she was fully dressed and had her face and hair styled up. She didn't say much more than that, since while they were friendly, Misaha and Zakura were not exactly the best conversationalists. Instead, she was escorted back out, where an overly excited Delun threw his arms around the girl in an appreciative and congratulatory hug.

"You look fabulous!" he complimented her, "you're sure to blow the crowds away tonight!"

Amy couldn't help but crack a smile. This airheaded man in front of her seemed to have a contagious grin, after all. Surprisingly, Amy simply embraced that notion for the time being. In a few minutes, she would be ready for her Victor's interview and Crowning Ceremony.

The Capitol's timing always seemed so precise. As she approached the backstage, she could hear Caesar's fanfare growing louder and louder until she was practically surrounded by it. Within a few minutes, they would announce her name and welcome their newest victor to the stage.

For a brief moment, Amy saw something that caused her to double-take. Lined up near one of the walls were all of the other tributes, including Marcus. Amy glanced down the line all the way to Monica and Rafael in their elaborate mockingjay-style attire. Oddly, the illusion of Monica gave Amy a salute normally seen among Peacekeepers, and then suddenly, the other tributes did the same thing, even Marcus, who followed it up with a goofy grin and a thumbs-up.

"Shit, I miss you, Marcus…" Amy sighed as she blinked away the tributes, revealing the bare wall that was in front of her in reality. Within moments, Caesar's voice filled Amy's ears.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen," the Capitol host announced, "let's all give a round of applause to the victor of the 92nd Annual Hunger Games—Amy Mezkiel Zavala!"

Amy was greeted with significant cheers as she seated herself in front of Caesar Flickerman, figuring that they knew her middle name since they knew everything.

The night opened up with Amy seeing highlights from her games. She saw the opening minutes where she offed the District 10 boy, and noticed the District 11 pair breaking off from Districts 8 and 12 almost as early as the games had begun. They had situated themselves in some far corner of the maze, equipped with enough honey to attract a good number of those Night Witches.

The recaps and highlights showed every death. Unsurprisingly, it was in fact Azure who had surprise-attacked Luster and killed him. Erika, the girl from District 6, had been killed by Monica, and that answered the only other question Amy had about the deaths.

Seeing the final fight scenes was rather intense though. The footage showed a leadup to how Dante and Cheery had gained control over the Capitol mutts, and then saw them put their plan into action. The Night Witches were willing participants in giving the District 11 pair their blood, which Amy found rather creepy, but the Capitol seemed to like. She saw herself and Marcus defend themselves, and then cringed as she saw Monica situate herself in the prime spot to shoot Marcus in the throat. Her fists clenched, but other than a single sharp breath, she remained calm, especially as moments later, Amy used the wire that had nearly been her own downfall to turn the tables on Monica, electrocuting her to death.

"A fine show indeed, wouldn't you say, folks?" Caesar beamed once the screen turned black again. The Capitol responded to Caesar's (rhetorical) question with chants and cheers, before the focus was shifted back to Amy. It was interview time.

Some of the first and most obvious questions included how Amy felt now about being a victor, to which she had a rather interesting answer.

"A couple weeks ago I said I would be sending a message. Next year, you will see another District 2 victor sitting on this throne, thanks to yours truly. It's the mentor's life for me from here on out."  
This was met with wild applause. The Capitol did love when people played their game, and to see victors make bold statements.

The interview continued, with a few touchy subjects such as Marcus, but Amy spoke nothing but positive words about him, because while they did jab each other now and again, they were really just best friends.

"really," Amy quipped at one point, "if I make fun of someone like that, chances are they're my best friend—or one of my best friends."

"Oh ho," Caesar laughed, "so should I be expecting an insult now too?"  
"Well, with that upbeat voice and that cringingly pink hair… I dunno how I've survived this long." Amy joked, sending everyone in the room—Caesar included, into hilarious near conniptions.

Amy's interview continued for a little while longer, wrapping up with a meeting that Amy had been anticipating this whole time.

"Don't go running off anywhere just yet, young lady," Caesar was clearly about to build hype, "surely someone from a district so full of victors knows what is coming next… Ladies and gentlemen… please welcome our very own venerable President Coriolanus Snow!"

The audience erupted into their usual fanfare of applause as the President of Panem made his grand appearance. In his hands was the victor's crown, which he ceremoniously placed on her head, his eyes meeting the young victor's eyes for a moment.

"Congratulations, Ms. Zavala," he spoke in his soft but commanding tone, as he placed the crown upon Amy's head, "you have fought hard and courageously to earn this victory—it is well-deserved."

Unlike last year, Snow did not give much of a speech for Amy, but his words were still enough that the young victor felt honored by them.

"This fine young woman has accomplished what few in Panem could ever do." he stated simply, "she deserves your commendation for her deeds."

President Snow certainly had a point, or so Amy assumed. She was one of now only 92 people who had ever been thrown into a death arena with 23 other children (47 in the case of Haymitch Abernathy from District 12) and crawled out of it alive. The number was actually less than that given that some of these games were nearly a century ago, and so their victors had likely passed on. Others had died from drugs or alcohol or other coping mechanisms, and so Amy was not sure how many victors actually still lived.

Her mind was taken off of all of that once the Capitol erupted and started chanting her name, just as they had done with Ava, the previous year's victor.

Amy! Amy! Amy! Amy!

"This moment here…" Caesar took Amy's hand as she stood up to face the crowd. "This is a moment you never forget. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the moment where a tribute becomes a victor!"


	31. Chapter 31: Victor and Mentor

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _And obviously the fic slows down a little bit here until Amy's victory tour in a couple of chapters, but that doesn't mean nothing happens. We get to see a bit more about Clove's backstory and a couple of things that haunt her about her own games._  
_Amy certainly hasn't gotten over Marcus' death, or any of the other friends she made in the games and the way they died. She's still being a bit vague about how she feels about Monica in particular, but there will be plenty of time for us to learn about that._  
_Happy reading!_

**CHAPTER 31: Victor and Mentor**

Amy followed her team up to the 2nd floor of the tribute tower where they would be staying one more night before Amy and Clove would be taken home. Her interview had gone well, and Amy was in a decent mood for a rattled victor who, less than 24 hours ago, had been fighting for her life in a sinister, electrified maze against crazy tributes, Capitol mutts, and arena hazards, living off of minimal food and sleep. A banquet and a long nap were in Amy's future, and if they weren't, she very well might start a rebellion herself.

"Are you hungry?" Delun piped up, his obliviousness showing again. Amy didn't even care right now. She was too tired to be offended at his unknowing indifference.

"I'm fucking starving." She grunted, "If I don't get something to eat in the next 5 minutes I'm going to cannibalize the first person I see."

There was an awkward silence after this, but luckily, the Avoxes had already set out a banquet's worth of food on the table, where Clove finally reappeared and was already seated.

"You didn't even come to my victor's interview?" Amy tilted her head. "Clove, you're a right ass, you know that?" A grin had crept onto the smaller girl's face though."

"I was there," Clove replied, "I just haven't eaten in 3 days, so I left right as Snow showed up. I'm almost as hungry as you, though I wasn't trapped in a death maze."

"You know… when we go on tour in 6 months, you're going to tell me everything." Amy asserted.

"Everything about what," Clove purposely dodged the question as the team sat down to eat. The stylists were silent of course, and Delun seemed to be rambling excitedly to them about Amy's victory or something, so they managed to have a little conversation right quick.

"Everything about you," Amy explained, "I still don't know the first thing about you other than you've won the Hunger Games before. It makes me curious."  
"Well, tell you what—I'll give you a rundown of a few things tonight after these goofy bastards are off and asleep. No offense to them or anything—I love that man to death." She motioned towards Delun, "just that obviously, you and I both know that they don't understand. None of them truly understand."

Amy nodded and the two victors silently ate. Amy did get chastised by Delun at least once for her lack of manners, since she was eating rather savagely.

"You're eating like a girl who hasn't had a good meal in weeks." Clove chortled shortly after Delun chastised her and the stylists nodded in agreement.

"I *am* a girl who hasn't had a good meal in weeks. Now shaddup and let me eat." With this, Amy defiantly slammed her face into her food and practically inhaled. Clove burst out laughing at the shocked and appalled reactions from Delun, Misaha, and Zakuya, but none of them could stop Amy.

Later that evening, Amy washed her face and changed into something more suitable to walk around in, which for her consisted of a blue sleeveless top and navy blue sweatpants. Sometime between dinner and now, she had dozed off, and so it was late in the evening. Amy wondered if Clove was even awake at this hour.

She stepped back out into the now deserted common room to find it dark except for some light pouring in through the windows, both from the moon and from the glimmer of the Capitol cityscape around them. She wandered outside to the balcony, gazing around her for a second before noticing a fairly diminutive figure leaning against it, also clad in nightclothes—Clove Kazera.

"What are you doing up at this hour," Amy tilted her head, joining the older girl as they gazed out at the glittering lights of the Capitol together.

"Probably the same thing you are," she quipped, "I couldn't sleep. That's one thing you might have to get used to. Luckily you don't have to work so it's not like they're gonna drag you out of bed at 7 in the morning even if you were up till 5 trying to cope with your nightmares."  
"Didn't you build a statue of Chel last year though?" Amy raised an eyebrow, remembering being back in District 2 during the time when Clove sculpted the statue, which surprisingly got the Capitol's approval.

"I did, but I built it on my own free time. It wasn't like the Capitol commissioned me to do th—YOU!"

Clove turned towards one of the other buildings before whipping a knife out of her pocket and throwing it with vicious force in the direction she was facing. However, the same forcefield designed to keep tributes from committing suicide (even from the "2nd floor" it was a long way down) also deflected the knife, which whizzed over Clove's head, landing with a clatter on the balcony.

"Clove, what the hell?" Amy tilted her head. The older girl took a deep breath, shaking her head.

"She hasn't left me alone in nearly 20 years." Clove murmured, sinking to her knees, "she was a real bitch this year in particular," she trailed off, mumbling.

"Who," Amy crouched down, looking Clove in the eyes.

"A kid from my games," Clove sighed, "Rue Keniye was her name—District 11. I see her around every now and again, and sometimes it just pisses me off."  
"But she's dead, isn't she?"  
"I'm not even sure anymore," Clove shook her head, pulling herself to her feet again, "but there's no point in me bitching to you. I'm your mentor. I'm supposed to be the shoulder you can lean on, since you're the newly traumatized kid on the block and whatnot."

Amy thought back to the hallucination she had had of Monica and the other tributes shortly before Caesar's interview. Were illusions in Amy's future? She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but perhaps it was better than several alternatives.

"I saw Monica earlier tonight," Amy admitted, deciding she could share that with Clove.

"So you know what it's like then,"

"Well, what does this Rue girl do in your visions?"  
"She mostly just glares at me; hair blowing in the wind, arms crossed, a stoic expression on her face. Sometimes she gives me a salute from her district or something."

"Clove, is it bad that I just don't feel anything?"

"Do you miss Marcus at all?"

"Of course," the 14-year-old sighed, "Just… I don't really feel anything. I'm happy I won and sad that he's gone, but I don't feel happy and I don't feel sad. I just… feel."

"Every victor's emotions take the beating of a lifetime in the games, kid," Clove admitted, "We simply put on masks to imitate sanity in front of the crowds. What victors do behind closed doors is no one's business but their own. What you do with your life is in your hands, Amy."

"That sounds awfully profound for Clove Kazera," Amy quipped, "did you get that from Chel?"

"Shit, you're onto me," Clove cracked a chuckle. Even Amy's lips curled upward for a moment.

"Even victors smile now and again, Amy." The older woman put an arm around the tiny girl, "President Snow is right about at least one thing—Hope is stronger than fear."  
"When did you learn that?" Amy raised a curious eyebrow.

"Must you be skeptical of everything I say?" Clove dramatically sighed, "You act like I can't come up with a single original thing in my life!"

"I've seen you, Clove." Amy elbowed her, "but honestly, that time I was just curious. I mean, sure we've heard that since we were kids, but I think it was ultimately Marcus who taught me that lesson." She glanced upwards at the heavens, sighing as she remembered the time that she and Marcus had spent together, both in the 'games, and back at the District 2 academies.

"I had always looked up to him, you know," the tiny girl continued, "Marcus, I mean. He was that gigantic boy that always ranked among the best at everything. If he was a year older, I would have expected him and Chel to be the ones to make it to the stage last year."

"Marcus and Chel were good friends," Clove nodded in agreement, "I think that District 12 girl's victory speech last year was spot-on about people like them. District 2 needs more of them. Panem needs more Marcus Romeros and Chel Colorados."

Amy nodded in agreement. She was still fairly numb from the whole experience of the Hunger Games, which had hardly ended more than 12 hours ago.

"Thanks for the chat, Clove," Amy stretched, yawning. It was still the middle of the night after all.

"No problem," Clove shrugged. "I might not be the easiest person to figure out, but in about 6 months you'll be stuck with me for another 2 weeks. Anything I haven't answered between then and now will probably get answered then."  
Amy laughed, elbowing her mentor. "Sounds like a plan to me. Thanks again, Clove. I'll see you tomorrow morning."  
With that, the two victors headed back inside and went back to sleep.


	32. Chapter 32: The Therapist

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _maybe next time I'll just post them at will since I'm apparently horrible at keeping deadlines or something. I dunno. Anyways, other than Clove, we do get to see a familiar face from the 91st Hunger Games, and so there's that about this chapter. Otherwise, Amy's about to get home and then we kick off the tour. Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 32: The Therapist**

Amy woke the next morning feeling a bit more refreshed. Thankfully the Capitol wasn't about to drag her to the train station first thing in the morning, and so she got to sleep in a few hours. Now that she was a victor, she could be pampered a little bit on her way home to District 2.

When she did wake up, (or rather, when she was woken up by Delun) she brushed off the giddy man, who was excited to take his new little victor back to her home. The sooner he did that, the sooner it would be back around for the girl's victory tour. The Capitol was always excited for such things, even if the victors usually just let themselves get dragged along for compliance reasons and such. Luckily, there were positive merits about the victory tours, such as the parties in each of the twelve districts that occurred—so for the victor and her team, it would be nearly two straight weeks of speeches and travelling by day, and partying by night.

Amy showered and got dressed in more casual things, not really needing to look too impressive at the moment given that all she would be doing today would be going to the train station and riding home to District 2. She pocketed Marcus' token stone, and made sure her golden hoop earrings were still in place, but that didn't really count as looking impressive. She'd worry about that in 6 months—6 months from now would be when the games began anew, and then another 6 months from then, the actual Hunger Games would kick off again as they celebrated their 93rd year.

93 years… 2140 boys and girls had died because of these games: 23 kids for 91 of those years, and 47 during the 2nd quarter quell. Well, technically it might have only been 2117 kids, since the 3rd Quarter Quell had reaped people aged between 17 and 25 as the twist—and all but the victor, Katniss Everdeen, had been at least 21.

After a quick breakfast, Amy requested to be escorted to the train station alone.

"There's at least another hour or so before the train arrives," Clove shrugged, still eating a bit more breakfast, "you sure you wanna linger in that kind of a place with all these lunatics around?"  
It was a playful jab at the Capitol that earned Delun's ire, but Clove just laughed it off.

"I can talk to you on the train," Amy quipped, "so yeah, I'll see you down there."  
To cut a long story short, that was where Amy lingered for the next little while, nothing really noteworthy happening until Amy noticed a blue-haired woman with red eyes that caught her eye. Racking her brain quickly to try and remember where this lady looked familiar, it clicked after a few minutes: this was the District 12 escort. She had seen the woman on TV during Monica's reaping. She did actually have a question or two for her if the woman wasn't about to leave or something. Then again, if there was anything that Marcus Romero taught Amy, it was that when you wanted something, the best way to get it was just to go and get it. That explained his forwardness with lifting Amy above his head at least.

"Excuse me," Amy approached the taller woman (although most people her age or older were taller than Amy. Aveline from last year's games was one of the few exceptions), "Are you by chance Junichi Thatch?" Seeing her turn around made Amy pretty certain that she was the woman in question.

"I am," the blue-haired lady replied, "why? Did my brother say anything about me?"

"Your brother," Amy tilted her head,

"My own brother doesn't say a thing about me," Junichi shook her head, "I'm so very hurt. Delun is my older brother. He *is* still the District 2 escort, is he not?"  
"He is," Amy nodded, "and…" she paused, imagining Delun's face in her head and then glancing at Junichi. She could see some similarities in skin tone and facial structure. Clearly Junichi's blue hair (and red eyes) and Delun's green hair were not natural colors.

"Is there a story as to why your surnames are different?" she asked a moment later.

"Well of course," Junichi laughed, "Frost is my maiden name as well. But, I suppose that names and relationships were not what you came to talk to me about… was it?"  
"In a way, it actually is," Amy admitted, "I'm mostly wondering about what you thought about your tributes this year. Rafael is one thing, and Monica's on a totally different level. How did *you* feel about them though? I'm just curious."  
"they were promising potential victors," Junichi explained, "but I think that the games themselves took a toll on her and did more to her psyche than she might have admitted. She was sassy, sure, but she was not the monster that she became in the arena."

"I have mixed feelings about her." Amy nodded, "on one hand, she killed my best friend, but on the other, it was swift and simple. She didn't draw it out the way Iris tried doing with Chel last year… and her motivation didn't seem to be to try and break us—she just wanted to live. I think… I think that every tribute would want to live, from the mightiest career tribute to the lowliest bloodbath fodder. I guess at this point, I more feel sorry for her than anything else. Monica Savage was a worthy opponent."

"I found it slightly ironic that District 2 was level-headed and District 12 was so aggressive this year," Junichi pointed out, "I signed up for District 12 to get away from that."  
"Well… you do what you have to in order to survive in the 'games, right?" Amy shrugged,

"I wouldn't expect to ever understand," Junichi9 admitted, putting her arms around the tiny girl, "and if I was able, I would offer my counseling or comfort to any of the victors who needed it."  
"so what makes you so fond of victors," Amy was curious, "I mean, other than the usual fame and glory and power or whatever it is y'all like about us?"  
"Well, 'like' is not the right word," Junichi admitted, "but it interests me to see how two short weeks can so dramatically alter a person's mindset. Even you are much different from how you were before. You seem a bit more reserved and emotionless than you were before."  
"That's exactly how I feel," Amy sighed, "I feel old; tired… I suspect my body hasn't adjusted to normal sleeping schedules just yet, but I shouldn't feel old. I'm only 14."

"And yet you've been through more in two weeks than most do in their lives," Junichi reminded her.

"Are you a therapist during your off-hours?" Amy raised a curious eyebrow, "you seem like far more than just a Hunger Games escort."

"Perhaps I am, or maybe I volunteered," Junichi chuckled, "do not worry much about me, child. Just know that every word I have spoken to you was spoken in sincerity. There are some of us in the Capitol that truly do love the districts."

Amy mused about that for a moment. District 2 was certainly among the most loyal districts to the Capitol, and so she hadn't needed to question it before, but something about the way this woman worded it struck her as funny. But, instead of asking more about it, she simply nodded.

"thanks," she put her arms around Junichi again, "I know our meeting was short, but I hope to be able to meet you again, even if it's next year for the 93rd Hunger Games."

"As do I…" Junichi admitted, "Thank you for that, Amy Zavala."

Not long afterwards, Clove and Delun met back up with Amy and they were on the train flying back to District 2.

"What'd Junichi talk to you about?" Clove asked, sitting down and having a drink.

"Just victor stuff," Amy shrugged, "I like her. I think more victors deserve a kind of therapist like she is."  
"Huh," Clove grunted, "makes me wish I had had someone like that back in my day. But I suppose I've bitched to you enough. I'll shut up."

"But did it really ever end for you?" Amy raised an eyebrow, "Have your horrors of the 74th Hunger Games truly ever slipped away?"  
This gave Clove pause for a moment, as she realized the truth of Amy's words. Sighing softly, she shook her head.

"They never go away," she admitted, "the visions and the panick attacks and the nightmares… you've got a will of steel, kid. Consider yourself lucky."

"I wouldn't go that far," Amy nodded, "it ain't like I still don't feel the pain of loss any less than you or Aveline or any of the others."  
"I know," Clove nodded, "but hey… I may not be much, but I'm here for ya. It's a victor thing… it's nice to support one another in times like this."  
"You've been drinking," Amy quipped, "but at this point… I don't care." And with that, she threw her arms around Clove in a surprising—but very gentle—embrace.


	33. Chapter 33: The Tour Begins

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**_ Not late today. huzzah. Anyhoo, in this chapter, Amy prepares for her victory tour, after the winddown from the train ride home. There is thus a little 6 month timeskip, but that's fairly early on._  
_Unlike Aveline, Amy's change post-games was more that she kind of lost her emotional feelings, having hardened herself so much in her games. She still feels, she is just very aware that she feels hollow inside, and she has not really felt very strong emotions (positive or negative) since the games._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 33: The Tour Begins**

Given its proximity to the Capitol, the train ride home to District 2 was comparatively short, at least compared to some of the more distant districts, such as '4, '11, or '12. Clove and Amy spoke little, other than a brief conversation about Junichi, which even Delun got involved in.

"I never understood why my sister wanted to go to District 12," Delun explained, "although with the way they're producing victors over recent years, perhaps she's onto something!"

"well, we here in District 2 just got our turn," Amy smirked, "although that's not going to stop me from doing everything I can to bring another one home next year."

"That's the spirit, really," the escort agreed, "I for one certainly wouldn't mind going on tour two years in a row." He gave Amy another congratulatory pat on the back.

"It shall be done then," Amy promised." Naturally, she did not match in his enthusiasm, but she was still determined to make it a reality.

Similarly, when the train arrived in District 2 and Amy was met with throngs of roaring crowds approving of their new victor, Amy cracked a smile for them, but still felt that emptiness inside from missing Marcus. In the girl's defense, it had still been only slightly less than 48 hours since she had been in that maze, and so she did still feel like she wanted some proper alone time in her new victor's mansion.

6 months passed almost too quickly for Amy Zavala. During this time, where she had anticipated recovering, so to speak, she felt no such joys or luxuries. She enjoyed her new life in the victor village, learning not only about the elusive Katsuo and Kaede from the 82nd and 81st Hunger Games, but also became even better friends with Clove, as well as Elroy and Enobaria from the games previous.

Amy's life felt like a void. She didn't really have any nightmares apart from the standard ones of Marcus, but Monica didn't strike her any differently than Rafael or any of her other friends had. It was weird. Amy had expected to detest that girl with her wild and violent ways, but instead, she had an odd sense of respect for the girl. She was glad that Marcus hadn't had to suffer though. Watching Chel Colorado last year as Ava Togisala put her out of her misery had been heart-wrenching for numerous citizens of District 2, and the caring, respectful way that Aveline ended her suffering had caused many of them to salute and respect the victor, even if she was from District 12.

Naturally, they loved Amy. Every district loved their own victors the most—even District 2, which had had 16 victors over the course of Hunger Games history. It was a larger number than any of the others could boast, with only District 1 coming close, with 13 (and District 5 being after, with 9).

Amy shouted, throwing a knife at the door not so much out of panick, but because someone had just kicked it in, and scared her half to death.

"Clove, you fucker!" she roared, after rubbing her eyes had revealed the 74th victor standing in the door of her room. "How did you get in?"

"I walked in, silly." Clove laughed, "you don't ever lock your door."  
"Huh…" Amy grunted, realizing that Clove was right, "well still. You'd think there'd be more security in the district that produces the most peacekeepers.

"Call it cruel irony then," Clove quipped, "anyways, get up. Delun and the stylists will be coming soon and you need to be ready. Don't make me drag you outside naked—because I will."  
"I'll gut you and you know it," Amy returned the threat, remembering something the mentor had told her on the train ride to the Capitol. Either way, whether or not Amy actually considered the validity of that threat, she got up (she was dressed in nightclothes, however), and got dressed in something a bit more presentable, not really caring how she looked since she knew her stylists and team would fix her up to look beautiful and presentable for all of Panem—for over the next 2 weeks, all of Panem would be seeing her in person.

"you up for a game of Wicked Grace while we wait for the team to arrive?" Clove offered, brandishing a deck of cards,

"Only if we're betting on it," Amy smirked, digging into her pockets.

"It's not Wicked Grace if there aren't any stakes," Clove smirked. "you're on."

They were about halfway through their 6th game when there was a knock at the door, which was more of a warning knock than an actual 'answer-the-door-please' knock, given that Delun and the rest of the team entered the mansion a moment later.

"Are you ready for today?" he held his arms out excitedly, using this as an expression of excitement rather than a desire for a hug,

"Why wouldn't I be?" Amy smirked, "I get to remind everyone one of the message I said I'd send."

"Excellent," Delun grinned, stepping side to welcome Misaha and Zakuya. "let's get to work!"  
just like every other time, Misaha and Zakuya didn't utter a single word as they ushered Amy into one of the larger bathrooms, which they would use as their dressing studio for the pre-tour outfit. This one would be much simpler than the other ones, since it was just a comfortable piece that she'd get to wear before her first stop in District 1.

Sure enough, it was mostly just standard District 2 attire—cargo pants, a tank top, and a thin jacket over top, with light combat boots on her feet. Her hair was combed and styled a little bit, into a simple ponytail, but otherwise left down. Somehow, they had also produced Amy's golden hoop earrings, and so they adorned her with those. Amy had a feeling that they would be part of every outfit she wore ion the tour—not that she would mind.

Zakuya and Misaha nonverbally asked Amy what she thought, and the tiny girl smiled. "It looks great. Thanks." She gave her approval as she twirled around the mirror. The outfit was hardly twirl-worthy, but it was comfortable and practical. That was what Amy liked in her clothes.

Another thing that came to Delun's mind shortly after Amy met him back out in the front room, was the emptiness of the mansion.

"Perhaps it is not my place to ask," he leaned down to whisper to Amy, "but are your parents here? Surely they must be proud of producing such a fine young lady and Hunger Games victor!"

"They're off serving our fine country in District 5," Amy indicated, referencing that they, like many others from District 2, were Peacekeepers.  
"well… hopefully we'll catch them then, then." Delun reassured her, "They should be able to congratulate their fine daughter for her extraordinary performance in the 92nd Hunger Games."  
"Aye," Amy shrugged, "thanks for that."

Clove was the closest one that might be able to understand just how empty Amy felt inside. She had nobody—her parents were working as Peacekeepers in District 5; she no longer needed to attend the academies, since she was no longer eligible for the Hunger Games, and thus any friends she had there were gone; she did not need to ever get a job, since the Capitol provided her a stipend for life, and so she basically just had the other victors as her friends. They were really some of the only ones that understood her plight anyways. Well, and of course, she still missed Marcus—that gigantic goofball of a boy who, while silly a lot of the time, was strong and smart, and knew when to get serious. That was a difficult combination to pull, but Marcus had done it flawlessly.

After passing through a gauntlet of Capitol camera crews, Amy soon made it to the train, getting herself comfortable as it took off. She closed her eyes, letting her mind muse about things as she slept. Tomorrow morning they would be arriving in District 1, and the countdown would go in numerical order from there. Amy couldn't remember when they did it, but recently they had switched the order of districts from highest-to-lowest, to lowest-to-highest. That just meant that District 12 would be saved for last. Incidentally, that was the district that Amy thought she would be the most worried about, but instead, she knew exactly what she would say. She would probably handle herself well enough in every district that she'd probably only need Delun to help her if she couldn't think of anything non-generic enough to say.

As the train flew onward, Amy couldn't help but once again think about how empty she felt and how she couldn't shake that feeling. Maybe a conversation with Clove was in order tomorrow or tonight. Maybe the parties that were thrown in each district would help. She wasn't sure. For now though, she was simply going to close her eyes and rest. Delun (or someone) would surely make sure that she did not oversleep and miss anything important…


	34. Chapter 34: Honoring the Fallen

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _The victory tour kicks off, starting with Districts 1 and 3 (since '2 is saved for last). Amy pays homage to 4 of her 5 career companions in the games, meets a couple of other victors, and begins a journey to discover the secret of this "Red Gold", from District 1, and how it involves District 6. In fine, welcome to the victory tour._

**CHAPTER 34: Honoring the Fallen**

Amy's first stop was in District 1, and from there would skip her own district and move on to '3, all the way down to '12. She felt that the first couple of stops would be important to give homage and respect to her allies from the games. Charm and Luster, ditzy as they might have been, had been loyal friends until their untimely deaths. Similarly, so had Shaft and Asher been, although their stop would be tomorrow, and so Amy's focus would be on District 1's tributes for today.

That morning as they neared the stop, Amy was dressed by her silent stylists into a shimmering sapphire-colored gown, most likely representing that very jewel. District 1 *was* the luxury district after all, and was responsible for many of the finely crafted items that its citizens and the Capitol wore, among other things. They had a very amiable relationship with District 2 (unlike the vague but oddly positive relationship fostered between '2 and '12 last year by Ava), and so Amy was not worried about her reception here being anything short of positive.

Her outfit was topped with a pair of heels (reminding Amy just how tiny she was), and Clove had a few remarks to make about the blue makeup on her face, as well as other touches.

"There's a saying in District 1," she quipped, looking the younger victor over once, "they say that everything is better with glitter."

"That explains the glitter then," Amy laughed, "they'll swoon over me."

The people of District 1 didn't exactly swoon, but they were clearly very fond of Panem's 92nd victor, given her close and amiable ties with the volunteers from their district that year. The applause that Amy, Clove, and the team got as they approached the Justice Building stage was a sign of their reception. Amy found herself rather approving of this.

Despite her emotional emptiness, Amy was able to give a fairly good speech, glancing one last time at the holographic profiles of Charm and Luster that stood behind their grieving families. She mentioned their loyalty, their positive attitudes, and their dedication to their cause. They had been valuable allies (even if they had not killed any other tributes, although Amy didn't mention that part. If they wanted to remind themselves of that, all they had to so was rewatch the games footage), and Amy and Marcus had both been genuinely saddened to see them go. On the other hand, Amy respected the cunning of District 8's tributes this year, since they had been responsible for the deaths in question.

District 2 had a peculiar mentality like that. Many of them respected both friends and enemies, if they were cunning, clever, or strong. The former two reasons were also why many of them respected District 5. In many years, Panem's most mysterious district produced elusive and cunning tributes.

Whatever the case, Amy's speech went remarkably well and the applause was genuine. Soon she and the others shuffled in for the evening's events, where the partying would go down.

Now, Amy, like all of District 2, was aware that their district partied hard and that there was simply no parties that quite matched it except for the Capitol which made anything from the districts look inferior (so it didn't count). However, that didn't mean that they didn't enjoy themselves in District 1, which did provide a nice party either way.

During this time, Clove found Amy and sat beside her with two reddish bottles in her hand.

"You're going to offer drinks to a 14-year-old?" Amy raised an eyebrow, noting Clove's smirk.

"No, I'm going to pressure you into it," she retorted, "it's good though. Red Gold is one of District 1's greatest specialties. I'll save you a bottle for District 6 as well."  
"Why District 6?" the 14-year-old tilted her head curiously.

"You'll see," Clove smirked. "I promise you it will be worth it though."

"How do you know this?" Amy couldn't help but ask again.

"A victor named Miriam Luxio taught it to me." the mentor explained, "and she got it from a woman named Zerviah Hawke from District 6."

"Does that explain the connection between Red Gold and District 6?"  
"I knew you were smart, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to ruin the surprise. Just trust your old mentor on this one. Why would I steer you wrong?"

"Maybe because you think I'm an enemy tribute and you're back in the 'games?"

Clove sneered at Amy for this remark, and Amy cracked a smirk.

"You're not the only one who can be an insensitive ass." The tiny girl winked. "Think of it as a compliment—I called Marcus an ass all the time and he was my best friend."

For a brief moment, she imagined Marcus being here with them, laughing and partying it up. Briefly, she also thought of Chel Colorado from the year before, and how she and Marcus together would have had the crowds splitting their sides from comedy.

Despite sampling some of this alcoholic "Red Gold", Amy knew her limits (they were surprisingly high for someone so young and so tiny), and so perhaps much to Delun's relief, he did not have to drag her back to the train at the end of the night. Clove on the other hand, was completely trashed, and she was the one who ended up being dragged back to the train.

The next morning, however, neither victor suffered a hangover—at least, not by the time they were eating breakfast on their way to District 3. Normally they went in numerical order through the districts, but skipped the victor's home district and saved it for last.

Amy's outfit for this stop was a black, flowy dress lined with golden sashes over her shoulders, and a blue shimmering LED-esque effect on the fringes of her skirts. As usual, she gave a nodding approval (despite that there was also glitter on this outfit) to Misaha and Zakuya, who simply gave their sweet, appreciative smiles in return. Amy's determination to get a word out of them had dissipated. If they weren't mute, they were just too damn good at staying silent for Amy to weasel a word out of them.

Either way, soon they were pulling into District 3, which had a peculiar atmosphere, particularly to Amy. Rumors from the Peacekeepers back home said that District 3 was a rather rebellious district along with the likes of Districts 8 and 11. Amy initially thought that the notion was rather odd given that they so often aligned themselves with the two most loyal districts of Panem when they joined the career pack, but after a little bit of watching some old Hunger Games footage where District 3 tributes were careers, it made sense. They lined themselves up with the strong tributes, and then waited for the opportune moment to turn around and do them in. None had demonstrated this better than Ikki Ortolani, victor of the 77th Hunger Games. At 12 years old, she was the youngest member of the career pack that year, and they managed to sweep the field together. However, when it came down to the 8 careers (Districts 1, 2, 3, and 4), they decided to pick off Ikki first. She got the best of them by electrocuting all 7 of them at once, replicating a tactic a man named Beetee had done nearly half a century earlier.

Amy gave a proper eulogy for both Shaft and Asher, noting that their grieving families looked angrier than Luster or Charm's had. That rebellious aura was definitely in the air, although luckily for Amy, it did not seem to be directed at her. Shortly after her eulogy for Asher had ended (for she had given Shaft one first), the crowds roared in rather passionate applause. Perhaps Amy gave them hope that not all tributes and citizens from District 2 were suckups to the Capitol. Amy's stance was actually much more neutral than anything else.

Either way, soon they were at the victory celebration enjoying the feast and the night. The large banners with the words "VICTORY TOUR" were adorning the hall, as were banners bearing the number 92.

Amy actually met two victors here: Ikki herself (who was now nearly 30), and her successor, a young man named Ian, who had won the 88th Hunger Games.

"Nice performance," Ikki complimented her, "I can't say I'm not upset that District 3 didn't bring home a victor, but I know a swift-thinker when I see one. I especially liked that electricity trick with the walls that you did… reminded me of my won games."  
"I just did what I had to," Amy shrugged, "she killed my best friend, so I got rid of her."

"You do what you have to," Ikki agreed. "No one truly ever 'wins' the Hunger Games."  
Amy paused, reflecting on that statement before nodding slowly.

The rest of the night consisted of her musing and pondering Ikki's words. Was she right? Had she truly won anything, or was she currently experiencing emotional loss so deep and cutting that she was still not able to experience strong emotions, positive or negative?

Not to say that it bugged her, but it was weighing down on her mind all the way back to the train, and all the way through the trip to District 4…


	35. Chapter 35: The Red Gold Mystery

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _better late than never amirite? *gets shot*_  
_The mystery of District 1 and District 6, and this "Red Gold" comes to light. After a slightly jovial stop in District 6, we brace ourselves for the inevitable intrigue that will come from Amy's stops in District 11 and District 12. The two locales have a very distinct pattern of behavior that kind of toes the lines the Capitol has drawn without actually crossing them (yet). Amy, coming from the most loyal district to the Capitol, will see quite the contrast over these next few chapters._  
_Happy reading!_

**CHAPTER 35: The Red Gold Mystery**

Given that the tributes from District 4 had died in the bloodbath, Amy had not really gotten to know them very well, for better or for worse. Thus, she called upon Delun to help write a fairly pacifying and generic speech. She did the same thing for District 5 as well, even if Spark Tracey survived the bloodbath. Marcus had killed the boy after all, and Amy definitely liked Marcus more than Spark. It was nothing personal—Amy and Marcus had been good friends.

One thing that Amy did note about Panem's most mysterious district was that they put on a dazzling light show during the festivities that happened that evening. Amy figured that they must be decently loyal to the Capitol, for if they were rebellious, they might have been able to sabotage them by cutting off their power supply. Since no such thing had happened in the Capitol yet, Amy was simply accepting what she had already assumed.

The speech Amy gave in District 6 was similarly generic, although Amy's memory was such that she did not forget about her stop in District 1, and, per Clove's instruction, brought the bottles of "Red Gold" with her. During the festivities that night, Clove led her to a trio of people that she recognized: all of them were middle-aged, and two of them looked like twins.

"Amy," Clove smirked, pointing to the pink-eyed figures, "this is Dezna and Arza Meraxa, and this is Zerviah Hawke. They will tell you all you need to know about Red Gold."  
These individuals, like many in District 6, had pinkish eyes, which was an aftereffect from the district's drug endemic. Unlike other districts, this was not limited just to victors. Clove explained that of these, the male twin, Dezna, was a victor of a past Hunger Games, and so was Zerviah. They seemed fine with welcoming the new victor to District 6, and seemed to have no qualms with her being from such a loyal district. After all the introductions were done though, Amy had to pop the question.

"This is all leading somewhere, right?" she asked, "What's this have to do with Red Gold?"

"Red Gold is the greatest drink ever concocted," Zerviah explained, "if you mix it with Substance 21, it will give you the hallucinatory high of a lifetime. Think tracker-jacker stings without the pain or the boils, and then add rainbows and the ability to fly to the mix, and you will understand."  
Amy gave Clove a look that basically all but said 'are you serious'.

"But seriously," the tiny girl continued, "what even is Substance 21?"  
"It's a drug of course; what did you think it was?" Clove laughed, sitting down and pulling out a few bottles of Red Gold of her own. Amy remained silent, knowing that the woman had a point.

"So is this what Miriam Luxio was talking about back in District 1?"

"Aye, that's exactly what it is!" Zerviah beamed, "Miriam and I were and are the best of friends. When I won the Hunger Games, she was 15 at the time. She showed me the magic of Red Gold, combined with Substance 21. Did you know that the Meraxa twins here invented it when they were 7?"

Amy raised her eyebrows. "I… never thought I would be impressed with making a drug at the age of 7… but that's a rather impressive feat." She admitted, before snapping back to Clove. "first you're convincing me, a kid, to drink alcohol, and now you're convincing me to do drugs? You really are a terrible influence on me, Clove Kazera."

Oh, but you know you love it," Clove quipped, not oblivious to Amy's smirk. The conversation continued and Amy learned a few things as Zerviah told the story. She had won the 37th Hunger Games, and met Miriam on her tour. 3 years later, Miriam had volunteered for the 40th Hunger Games and emerged the victor. She did not forget about her friend in District 6, and they revisited each other again when they both produced victors during their times as mentors. Amy was surprised that a victor from District 6 got along so well with a victor from District 1, although apparently a lot of victors were friends with other victors regardless of district. Amy wished she could feel that sort of mirth. She still felt rather emotionless, and so when the time came to mix the Red Gold and the Substance 21, she decided to give it a shot, hoping that it would release her from the emotional numbness that had been haunting her pretty much since the last night of the Hunger Games.

She swirled the liquids in her glass before draining it. To her surprise, it was actually tasty. She supposed it would have to be if it was so popu—whoa.

The three folks in front of her had just exploded into a colorful array of rainbows. Gasping, Amy turned towards Clove, and realized that her hair was on fire.

"Whoa…" she sighed dreamily, her eyes glazing over. While this might have seemed weird, such were the psychedelic effects of Substance 21 mixed with Red Gold. The latter of these inhibited mental functions a bit, and the former made the brain go haywire, especially with what the eyes thought they saw. Essentially, Amy had the hallucinations of a lifetime.

Similarly, she was not the only one. Dezna, Arza, Zerviah, and Clove were all in on this, and were frankly, rather enjoying it. Amy wasn't sure how long it lasted, but the next thing she knew, she found herself in a bed in a dark room. She groaned, crawling up and peering out the window, to see the moon shining down on a desolate landscape. They were back on the train.

Amy's head hurt, and so she laid back down. Maybe in a few hours she would ask where they were and what happened. Were they on the way to District 7 now, or did she sleep through that and move onto District 8?

For a moment, Amy laid there in silence, hearing the train fly down the tracks. It was oddly serene, and for a moment Amy imagined Marcus, sleeping a room over as they flew towards the Capitol 6½ months ago for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games. Amy had visited the academies a few times between her victory and the tour, and saw plenty of aspiring career tributes, as well as a slight influx of younger boys and girls, probably due to the feats of District 12's Ava Togisala, and definitely also in part because of her, a 14-year-old volunteer who won the games. Similarly, she saw some light-hearted tributes that had the pleasant aura about them that made Amy feel like they were trying to fill the voids left by Marcus Romero and Chel Colorado.

Amy woke up the next morning to Delun promptings, causing the tiny girl to ask where they were.

"We're on the way to District 7 of course," he laughed, "you were quite the handful last night. We had to have the team carry you back to the train… you were listening to Clove again, weren't you?"

"guilty," Amy quipped, "Whatcha gonna do about it?"  
"Nothing at this point since you're alive," the escort man retorted, "so let's get you ready…"

District 7 was fairly uneventful as well since Amy didn't know the two tributes (they were bloodbath fodder this year), and so it went fairly well and without event, much like District 4. District 8 was a bit different, because while there was certainly enmity of some sort between what Amy had heard was the most rebellious district seeing a victor from the most loyal district, they seemed to be pacified a little by Amy's somewhat sincere and respectful words towards Talon and Azure. Amy did feel a little awkward that evening (but her dress was colorful and very beautiful; District 8 certainly had a sense of fashion that Misaha and Zakuya tried to have her outfit symbolize—they succeeded grandly), but all in all, nothing too eventful happened, and the Peacekeepers didn't need to get involved.

District 9 was as generic as its bloodbath fodder tributes, and '10 was no different. District 11, however, was going to be a treat. Amy was not sure how she felt about it, or especially how she felt about District 12. Peacekeepers had always said that '11 was one of the most rebellious districts, although most of them said that even more rebellious than District 8 or District 11, was District 12. However, the population was small and it was in such a far corner of the country that most of the citizenry were fairly complacent given that the Peacekeepers had an easy job there of not really caring. Time would tell, and Amy was certainly curious to see what it was actually like.

Clove also had interesting thoughts about Districts 11 and 12, given that they had been significant players in her own games. There were still a few more hours till they would reach the borders of District 11, but Amy could tell already that these were probably going to be the wildest and most intriguing chapters of her entire victory tour…


	36. Chapter 36: The Tales of District 11

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _and today we get to swing into District 11 and see how our old buddy Sagittaria is. Also, even if they're dealing with folks from District 2, '11 is still not afraid to be a bit vocal about their beliefs. They know when they're putting a toe over the line, however, so they aren't about to get bombed just yet. They're a clever and resilient bunch._  
_Anyhoo, more victors, a bit more Clove stuff, and lots of Amy. Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 36: The Tales of District 11**

Amy was dressed in a gown of surprising shades of green for her stop in District 11. True to the methods of Zakuya and Misaha, there was a bit of glitter added, which Amy thought might have been pushing it in the particularly poor districts, but it wasn't like there was anything she could do even if she wanted to.

Unlike '9 and '10 however, Amy's speech here would not be generic. She might have been enemies with Cherry and Dante, but they were cunning kids who deserved respect. Strength did not only come from District 2, and most of the careers from that district knew it. Thus, many of them respected friends and enemies alike, even if it was in different ways.

As the train pulled in for a stop, Delun was as chipper and enthusiastic as ever.

"And here we are!" he beamed as the train slowed, "Welcome to District 11!"

The reception Amy got as they were escorted to the Justice Building stage was mixed, as one might expect from a rebellious district watching a victor from a notoriously loyal district appear in front of them and in their territory. After all, the two District 2 tributes had been the ones to slay both of the District 11 kids.

Either way, Amy was intrigued, because this district was also the home of the famous storyteller Sagittaria Svenja, victor of the 44th Hunger Games. She would tell stories about every victor that passed through District 11—sometimes whether they liked it or not. She glanced through the crowds, singling out a middle-aged woman in a fiery red dress—Sagittaria's trademark gown. She would find this woman again during the feast. For now her focus was on the man and two girls that stood in front of Dante's portrait, and the couple flanked by a trio of small children who appeared to be triplets, standing in front of Cherry's face. Unsurprisingly, they did not look happy. The grieving families almost never were, for obvious reasons.

"I'm sure that you have all heard the same old tripe before about how we victors are supposed to hail each tribute as a hero or something," Amy began her speech, taking a rather bold stance right away. "I'm not here to do that today. I'm here to single out a young man and young woman who exemplified the greatness that we as the nation of Panem are capable of producing. I did not know their individual personalities as well as I would have liked, but I saw enough of heir synergy to know that Dante Daniels and Cherry Valdez are going to go down in history as District Heroes. These were people that figured out a way to control monsters in the arena. These were master survivalists demonstrating their skill and power. District 2 respects people based on strength, intelligence, and courage. As such, I have a profound respect for Dante Daniels and Cherry Valdez." Amy put her fist to her chest and then extended it out in a respectful gesture. She finished up her speech, winding down with the types of things the Capitol liked to hear, and so to her surprise, the speech as actually fairly well-received.

At the feast, Sagittaria was not the only one that Clove recognized either. Next to him was a younger man that was laughing with the fiery woman's jokes. Looking at the two of them side-by-side was enough to tell that the two were related, or so Amy figured.

"Got any intel on that guy?" she asked, approaching the table where Sagittaria sat

"Aye, that's Varric Svenja," Clove indicted, "he won the 67th games—the year after one of my mentors. I'm also pretty sure he's the son of Sagittaria."

One thing Amy learned quickly after introducing herself to Sagittaria was that the woman was something of a representative of the district. She appeared to be very aware of the workings of the place, and so while she had no real power (and of course, none of the districts had any power of Panem politics—that was all done solely by the Capitol), people did sometimes look to her as a mouthpiece for District 11's interests.

After a couple drinks (Amy blamed her newfound 'friendship' with the stuff on Clove and on Red Gold), Amy popped a particularly interesting question to the middle-aged woman.

"So I've heard that you're a famous storyteller," the young victor had begun, "what do your tales say about me?"  
"Amy Zavala…" the older woman put her hand to her chin, "the story of the 92nd Annual Hunger Games is one of wild intrigue, dramatic polarizations, and a setting so sinister that it's almost like something out of a horror story. There's the heroic story about how tiny little Amy and her partner Marcus overcame all odds and emerged victorious!"  
"Except that Marcus is dead just like all the rest of them," Amy reminded her with a small sigh. She'd never stop mourning Marcus' loss, any more than Ava last year would stop mourning her brother Wesley, or her friend Chel.

"I know that," Sagittaria quipped," but I can make it even more exciting by saying that the two of you broke out of the arena and returned to the Capitol on foot. They were so impressed with the performance that they simply crowned you both the victors."

"But that's not the truth," Amy shook her head, "that's all embellished and exaggerated."  
"That's the point," Saj indicated, "One thing you need to realize about me sweetie—I lie a lot."

"So what's the story of Dante and Cherry?" Amy raised a eyebrow, "surely you have some elaborately spun tale about their accomplishments—especially since they're from your own district."

"Tributes from our own district are not always the favorites," Varric Svenja piped up.

"I'll say," Clove also spoke up, "but hot damn, Varric, even nearly 20 years later and I still can't get over Thresh and Rue. What was mentoring them like?"  
"Rather silent, actually," Varric explained, "they had whole conversations with each other just by giving each other certain looks—I'm sure of it."

"The funny thing is, is I can't tell if you're bluffing!" Clove laughed. Amy was now even more confused, given that all this time, Clove had always spoken of Rue Keniye in rather unusual ways that Amy could not really place as positive or negative. If they weren't so busy drinking and partying it up, she might have asked her about it here and now.

"Anyways, the story behind Dante and Cherry," Sagittaria began explaining, "is that they had a hivemind with those mutts, and were able to reprogram them with honey and a few other gizmos. Then, they used the Night Witch army to strike the other tributes. It's simple as that."

"You're bluffing!" Amy laughed, figuring that that was outrageously false. However, much to Amy's surprise, Sagittaria simply raised an eyebrow and said in a much softer tone: "Am I?"

It definitely had Amy thinking about it. While she did not drink as much booze as Clove, the tiny girl was still slightly buzzed by the end of the night. Luckily she did not do anything stupid, and all in all, she had a rather good time watching Clove get drunk or listening to the wild stories of Varric Svenja, and the even wilder ones of his mother Sagittaria.

However, as they made it back to the train to begin one of the final legs of the tour in District 12 tomorrow, Amy was deep in thought as she collapsed on her bed. Had Dante and Cherry really figured out a way to reprogram Capitol mutts? Just as humans were among the most complex creatures in the animal kingdom, surely the humanoid mutts would be much more complex than just any old mutt. If the Night Witches of all things could be reprogrammed to work for those in the districts, then perhaps those two had started a trend that might show up in later Hunger Games.

On the other hand, Amy was not oblivious to the underhanded remarks against the Capitol or for rebellion that had been present in District 11—both from Varric, Sagittaria, and other victors, as well as many of the everyday citizens. It wasn't like she was about to turn that train around and go tell Snow about this though. She figured that he knew—it was well-known in District 2 that Snow always knows.

But what boggled her the most was that of all people to do it, it had been District 11. She might have expected the more tech-savvy districts like '5 or '3 to be able to reprogram a creature like that, but the fact that Dante and Cherry had had those creatures actively fighting for them even when there was no more honey meant that there was something up. Perhaps she would find out tomorrow though—or maybe ask Clove. For the time being though, Amy's eyes grew heavy and slipped shut, and soon she was back off in dreamland as the train continued its high-speed but steady course towards District 12…


	37. Chapter 37: Respecting an Enemy

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _Welcome to District 12, home of Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Vigo Zakatau, and of course Aveline Togisala from last year's games. District 12 culture is a bit different from that of the books, but it's not entirely foreign. It also has a larger population because time passes, and people tend to multiply. Also, we get to learn a little bit more about Monica's family and who she was, and so there's a lot to get from this chapter._  
_Happy reading!_

**CHAPTER 37: Respecting an Enemy**

Amy was up slightly earlier than usual today, her mind racked not with fear, but with deep thoughts about what was to come. Rafael and Monica had been her biggest enemies in the games, but at the same time they had been strong and ambitious fighters. Considering the District 2 mindset, Amy felt that the world needed more people like that, even if she didn't agree with some of their methods or some of the things they did (most notably, killing Marcus).

As the stylists prepared her for her penultimate district stop (for Amy would, of course, be giving a speech and a very moving eulogy for Marcus when she returned to District 2 in two days), Amy was actually glad they didn't speak. There was a small part of her that assumed that the one time she would want silence would be the one time that Zakuya and Misaha spoke to her, but she was not disappointed. They hummed softly, proving that they were not in fact mute, although Amy was also fairly certain that they had giggled a few times as well. Amy enjoyed closing her eyes as the stylists would clean her up and dress her up, and this time was no different. As they worked their magic, Amy mused about the underhanded rebellious remarks made by several citizens of District 11 the night before. She had heard various sides of the debate, although coming from one of the wealthier districts, it was easy for her to think much less of the brutality of the Capitol.

But in truth, Amy was simply neutral. She didn't care about rebellion, but also was not about to lick Capitol boots. The Capitol was the hand that fed them, and she saw no reason to disrupt that. If there was somehow a conflict that broke out, she felt that she would simply not take a side. The Hunger Games had done a decent job at desensitizing Amy to most things anyways.

When the tiny girl was finally prompted to open her eyes, she gave herself a look-over in the mirror. She was clad in a metallic-grey colored suit that seemed similar to the one she had worn in District 6, only darker and with a dustier makeup effect on her face and clothes. She came back out to find Clove in a (fairly simple) dress, interestingly enough. They always dressed up the mentors on the victory tour; though their outfits were usually much simpler and less attention-grabbing than those the new victor wore. This time was no exception.

"Nice dress," she quipped, sitting beside her friend as they reached the borders of District 12. "Are you ready for this?"

"I should be the one asking you that, kid," Clove shrugged, "those kids were your biggest enemies this year. You're about to have to give them something resembling a eulogy. Did you talk to Delun?"  
"I know exactly what I'm going to say," Amy remarked with the same confidence that she had had during her tribute interviews. "And no one is going to stop me."  
"Ha," Clove snorted, "I'm not the one who would want to stop you. I'd only encourage you. You know me—I like kids with gall. That was part of what I admired about Monica, even if I had my money on you and Marcus to win this thing."

"Well I'm glad that you rooted for the winner," Amy smirked, "Hopefully you'll be willing to do the same thing next year when I bring home another victor."

"Wouldn't dream of otherwise," Clove chuckled. "I've got your back."

A few moments later, they felt the train screeching to a halt outside the District 12 station. Similar to its District 11 counterpart, it was rather unremarkable—this was the outer fringe of Panem that often escaped the radar.

Amy's reception here was very similar to District 11, except that most people here were brown-skinned instead of black-skinned, and the population was smaller. After seeing District 1 and realizing how similar it was to District 2, Amy now realized the opposite was true as well. District 11 and District 12 were very similar, even in behavior. Amy was fairly certain that this district was itching to rebel, although with such a comparatively small population (Peacekeeper estimates said 10,000, although estimates were believed to be much closer to 14,000), perhaps they only stayed their hands in fear of being utterly annihilated.

There was only mediocre clapping as Amy reached the stage and cleared her throat. She glanced over at the two stages behind the audiences, where the families of Rafael and Monica stood. There was a young couple standing in front of Rafael's portrait, and it made Amy double-take. They looked like teenagers themselves—only 18 or 19, maybe 20. They couldn't be his parents.

That meant they had to be siblings. That meant that Rafael had been an orphan.

Monica's family wasn't too different. There was an older woman, so she at least had a mother still alive, but the girl standing with her actually made Amy rub her eyes. Luckily that Capitol makeup only came off in those purple showers, because Amy blinked several times in disbelief. Monica was standing there, right beside her mother—except it couldn't be. Amy had killed her.

The show had to go on though, and so Amy cleared her throat again, collecting herself.

"I'm not going to give any of you the sentimental nonsense that you might expect from a shining example that District 2 says it provides for Panem," she began, "I am going to say exactly how I feel about this place, and exactly how I feel about Rafael West and Monica Savage."  
The crowd was skeptical right away, and there was a dead, almost eerie silence that fell over District 12. It might have terrified lesser victors, but Amy knew that this was where she had to shine.

"They were my enemies, as anyone who watched the games surely knows," the victor continued, "but I respected them. They were cunning, strong, and determined. They had what it took to become more than just a tribute. In them was the stuff from which legends are born."

The crowd was listening much more attentively at this point.

"District 12 is a demonstration of the strength of the people of our great nation," Amy continued, "Even in these trying circumstances, they persist and persevere. Even in the darkest and grimmest of situations, Monica and Rafael did not waver from their cause, and from their loyalty to each other. They possessed a binding alliance that could only be comparable to the alliance I had with my own district partner Marcus Romero. They may have resorted to acts that some might consider deplorable, but the games are a means to an end. Do not for a moment think that no one else is capable of such things. Determination and situation can change a lot of one's behavior."  
She continued from here back into the more generic territory, and before she knew it, she had concluded, where she was surprisingly applauded similar to District 11. Shortly after the speech, Amy and her team were escorted inside the building, where the festivities for the evening would be occurring soon. Common theory among the locals was that the Capitol did this to make the victory tours seem more appealing and keep the districts satisfied. Apparently it worked to some degree, for there had been no large-scale rebellions—yet.

Soon however, things were in full swing, and Amy began to scour the crowds for one of several people. She did see the four living victors all at their own table, but as she worked her way over to them, she found herself being followed by Clove.

"You looking for Ava as well," Amy nodded towards where Ava, Vigo, Katniss, and Haymitch were seated. All of them were drinking and playing cards.

"Nah, I'm looking for Katniss," Clove responded, "and so now I know where she is. That girl over there seems to be looking for you though—why not see what she wants?"  
Amy spun around, facing in the direction Clove pointed, and there was Monica again. If Clove saw her too though, that either meant they were both hallucinating, or that the girl was real.

Her voice was even fairly similar to Monica's, except a small tone lower. She spoke to Amy once she was within hearing range.

"Nice speech," the girl began, "I'm honestly surprised it wasn't boring or generic or something."  
"Who are you?" Amy tilted her head skeptically, "You look so much like Monica, I can't tell if it's my memories of the games messing with me or if it's real."

"I'm real," the girl cracked a short-lived chuckle, "The name's Moneta Savage. I'm Monica's twin sister, as you probably figured. I'm the younger of the two."  
"Actually," Amy admitted, "I thought you were an illusion, so chalk that one up as an Amy blunder. But I didn't know Monica had a sister at all. She didn't ever even mention you."  
"Well, that was mighty rude of her now, wasn't it?" Moneta quipped, "But come. Let's sit down and have a chat. Your friend over there is keeping the victors company, and I want to learn a little more about our newest victor before she disappears into the ranks of her fellows.

"Fine," Amy shrugged, sitting down at a small table across from Moneta. "Let's talk…"


	38. Chapter 38: The Mind of District 12

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _And now, we finally get to see a bit of how Moneta feels about her sister, and perhaps more so, how Ava felt about her. Amy and Ava get to chat it up a bit, while Clove meets her old friend Katniss and they... well, "hit it off". Make of it what you will. Thus also ends the stop in District 12, and we move to the Capitol tomorrow (next chapter)._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 38: The Mind of District 12**

Amy had no idea what Moneta would want to talk about, let alone with the girl who had killed her sister. Of the many deaths that Amy Zavala caused in the 92nd Hunger Games, she did not seem to feel guilty about any of them. She thought long and hard about them, but she did not cry herself to sleep over them. They were merely a presence in her mind. The most notable of her 6 kills were Azure from District 8, Cherry from District 11, and Monica from District 12. She didn't realize until now that she had wiped out all of the female members of her enemy alliance.

"So what does someone such as yourself wish to speak to a victor about, particularly one that caused the death of your sister?" Amy raised an eyebrow, "I don't imagine you're here to congratulate me."

"To be honest," Moneta began, putting her hands together and gazing into Amy's eyes, "I don't know what happened to my sister in the games. She was not normally so violent. It was like the moment Junichi called her name, she transformed into a monster."

"That was what she told me during our final showdown," Amy muttered, "I don't know what they did to her, but to be honest, it almost seemed forced. Her behavior did not seem very natural. She seemed so fixated on proving that she was monster that she lost sight of everything else. I do not wish that on anyone. I see that happen in my own district far too much, Moneta."  
The older (and larger) girl reached into her pocket and unfolded a photograph. In it was depicted a pair of identical girls, grinning and giving a thumbs-up to the camera—clearly a throwback to happier times.

"This is the Monica I remember." Moneta sighed, "Say what you want about our surname, but Monica was not the way she was in the arena until she stepped up onto that stage."

"Well here we are at what might be the most ironic meeting and friendship Panem has seen since Ava and Chel," Amy quipped, "The sister of the girl who killed my best friend, and the girl who killed your sister. That… makes it sound awkward as fuck."

"I'm not going to lie and say that I liked what you did." Moneta admitted, "I obviously wanted my sister to come back… although a part of me was worried if she did come back, that she would be the way she was in the arena, at home."

"I couldn't say," Amy shrugged, "the games abuse everyone differently. I'm certainly not the same as I was before I volunteered. I think what happens is that people get so caught up in the motivational factors of fame, glory, or even mere survival, that it warps them to do this or do that. It's a rampant endemic among the victors of District 2. I feel like your sister fell into a similar rut without realizing that she did until it was too late. Obviously I know there's nothing that I can say to make things better. I… well, I guess I just don't want you thinking that everyone from District 2 is merely out there to kill kids from other districts."  
"Well why *did* you volunteer then?" Moneta tilted her head. It was a very interesting question that had Amy thinking about it for a while.

"I… guess it was just what I had been raised to believe." She shrugged, "It's kind of like how Peacekeepers are. They don't really question their instructions. They simply do them."

"You have a choice in the arena though—who do you kill first? Who do you save for last?"  
"Aye, but it's not that simple," Amy shook her head, "even if I wanted to save Marcus for last, he would have to still die if I was to come home, or he'd have to kill me to let himself come home."

However, they were interrupted by a loud racket from the victor's table. Spinning around, they saw Haymitch asleep at an adjacent table, bottles of liquor surrounding him. taking his place was Clove, although she was not in the seat for very long after Moneta and Amy looked. Katniss, who had been sitting across from her, had launched herself over the table and tackled Clove to the ground.

"Never play cards with Katniss," Moneta raised a calm eyebrow, "She tends to attack when she loses."

"Never mess with Clove unless you can hold your own," Amy chuckled, watching the two victors grapple on the floor. Ava and Vigo seemed to be watching with amusement. "But I'm pretty sure Katniss is no pushover either."

"7, 8, 9, HA!" Katniss bellowed.

"Gerroff me!" Clove grunted, throwing Katniss to the side before she could celebrate her victory.

"YOU!" the slightly older victor snapped in return, and the grappling continued, with profanities being slung from both parties, until Katniss had Clove in a weird kind of headlock, although one of Clove's legs was wrapped around Katniss' neck and shoulder as well.

"not bad for a woman in a dress," Amy quipped again.

"Which one," Moneta turned to her.

"Both, I guess," Amy shrugged, "But I'll let them sort out their differences. This is who I wanted to talk to…" She stepped towards a small girl similar in age and size to her—Aveline Togisala, victor of the 91st Hunger Games last year.

"Amy," Ava turned to the girl.

"Ava," Amy responded, "Don't take this the wrong way, but it's nice to be able to talk to someone without tilting my head back."

"I'm just travel size for Panem's convenience," Ava shrugged, "but I overheard bit of what you and Moneta talked about. I suppose you want to talk more about Rafael and Monica?"

"That's exactly it, to put it bluntly," Amy shrugged, sitting down as Katniss and Clove straightened up and seemed to be making amends.

"Obviously our experiences in the arena were different, but I think we had similar views about Monica and Rafael." Aveline agreed, "Of the two, Rafael was the level-headed one. Monica was driven and nearly blinded by her desire to win, and in the process I felt like she lost herself. I did not like how she had changed her behavior so drastically."  
"That was how I saw it," Amy indicated, "it felt like she was forcing her behavior, and it was sometimes not very believable. Perhaps that is why I feel sympathy for the girl. She lost herself in those games."

"I was worried about her," Ava admitted, "I did not like her attitude, and feared that it would carry over once she won if she was the one to emerge alive. Obviously I was supporting my own tributes, but I also had my eyes on you and your friend Marcus. I never thought I would root for career tributes over my own, but I guess that just goes to show that life is full of surprises. Even then though, whether you're from District 1 or District 12, or anything in between… I don't think we're all that different."

"I'll say," Amy concurred, "here we are as two of the youngest and smallest victors of all time."  
"Speaking of," Ava raised an eyebrow, "how does it feel? I know that District 2 obviously feels different about it than District 12 would… but I was always curious as to how someone who volunteered for the games felt about it after winning."  
"To be honest, it feels like nothing," Amy sighed, "I haven't really felt happy since Marcus was alive. I don't know how you feel about Chel or about your brother, but for me, it's just emotional numbness. I hate it, to be honest."  
Ava sighed. "Obviously memories of Chel and Wesley are hard for me to cope with. I guess I'm a bit more emotionally sensitive than you… but you know what? That's okay. Everyone copes differently. Katniss takes it out with violence. It seems that Clove does too."

"I regret nothing," Clove smirked, straightening herself as Katniss did the same.

"Thanks for that," Amy smiled, shaking Ava's hand. "I suppose we'll see each other in the Capitol after this, will we not? I mean, I think Clove's finally retiring."

Clove simply laughed, andall in all, the victors, be they from District 12 or District 2, seemed to get along well enough to not cause any incident. Perhaps Ava was onto something by saying that they as victors had more in common than first met the eye.

Thus it seemed almost too soon when it was time to say goodbye and head back to the train. Amy found all four living victors to be rather personable individuals, including the moody drunk that was Haymitch Abernathy, and the socially awkward, aggressive gambler that was Katniss Everdeen. Luckily, the two newer victors, Vigo Zakatau and Aveline Togisala, were much more personable, although it was certainly not to say that the older two lacked their charm.

Amy slept comfortably that night. Despite her neutral stance, as well as associating with figures that were clearly planning some sort of revolution, Amy was not worried at all about tomorrow night. The Capitol loved her, and she would make sure that it stayed that way…


	39. Chapter 39: The Rite of Passage

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_ Amy returns to the Capitol and does things that "every victor does" sooner or later. Either that or maybe she should stop listening to Clove. Either way, the next chapter will wrap up this fanfic, and then the story will continue in game 93. We'll be seeing plenty more of Amy, Ava, and the rest of our heroic victors though, so fear not. "Fire Without a Spark" has a long way to go before it ends._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 39: The Rite of Passage**

Naturally, Delun, Misaha, and Zakuya were all rather enthusiastic and excited for this penultimate stop on Amy's victory tour. They were going back to the Capitol, where Amy would get to join the partying at President Snow's mansion. If the rumors were true (which Amy was fairly certain they were), then the Capitol partied even harder than District 2, which was an accomplishment in and of itself.

Naturally, she also anticipated that her outfit would be a bit more extravagant than the other ones that she had worn in the districts. Thus, when her stylists unveiled a rather elaborate getup consisting of midnight black and purple, complete with shimmering stars… she was actually a bit surprised. Moreover, she recognized her hairstyle as the same one that she had had on her interview night 6½ months before.

"Marcus messed up this hairstyle last time," she quipped as she stepped out to meet an orange-clad Clove. She was joining the party as well, obviously.

"There are a handful of similarities between you and Marcus and me and Cato," Clove commented, flicking a stray strand of hair out of her face. "Although Marcus was definitely more playful…"

"That's not a bad thing though," Amy quipped, "Although it does make me miss him more." She didn't say it, but she was glad that she had not been the one forced to end Marcus' life. She didn't think that she would be unable to; but that blood would be on her hands—the same way Cato's blood was on Clove's hands, or how Chel's blood was on Ava's hands.

There was a strong sense of déjà vu once again as they returned to the Capitol for the evening. The strategic part of travelling from District 12 (or District 11 in the case of a District 12 victor) to the Capitol was that it burned away plenty of the day, so that the night-loving Capitol could get their groove on at their favorite time of the evening.

Amy remembered the details of Caesar's stage from her Victor's Crowning, and so she also noticed the differences this time around. It was adorned in red and gold, with a large Capitol emblem gracing the background, flanked by the number 92 on either side. It was just a recap of everything from 6 months ago to Amy, and it went right through her with no real effect on her expression or her attitude.

"_I still feel nothing," _she mused to herself as she made her grand appearance, and was once again treated to recaps of the 92nd Annual Hunger Games._ "Caesar Flickerman is as desensitized to death as I am, and I'm sure that most of the Capitol is the same way. If they want me to play their game again, I will—but they better not get upset if I win."_

But at the same time, as her interview kicked off, Amy wondered if there was even such thing as a winner. Did she ever truly leave the arena, or would it occupy and haunt her mind for years to come? Clove's games were nearly two decades ago, and she clearly still suffered from them, despite most of her stability. Even the tiny and ancient 71-year-old Leto from back home remembered her games, and they were over half a century ago. Perhaps Amy would take these memories to her grave.

Her interview was a bit more lighthearted, however, what with Amy's blunt sense of humor and her straightforward approach to everything Caesar said. Well, there was that and the fact that Caesar's flambouyant laugh was contagious. It actually did boost Amy's mood a bit, and it even sparked her at the end to remind everyone of her message.

"Remember folks," Amy smirked, "Next year you're going to see another kid from District 2 sitting where I am right now. I proved it once, and I'll prove it again."  
"Well there we go then!" Caesar grinned, gesturing excitedly towards the cheering audience, "Ladies and Gentlemen: Amy Mezkiel Zavala, District 2!"

She left the stage to this applauding fanfare, and was now ready to meet back up with Delun and Clove and head out to President Snow's mansion for the real festivities. She might not have licked Snow's boots, but she didn't harbor any hostilities towards the man at all either, and so the odds of him giving her any disdainful warnings or anything were slim to none.

"Nice job, kid." Clove complimented her as they were escorted to Snow's estate, "now the real games begin…"  
before they knew it, Delun was escorting them up towards the bright lights and loud, jubilant noises of the Capitol party. Delun was practically skipping, his vibrant green curls bouncing with each step.

"Chins up, smiles on!" he beamed, although Amy and Clove hardly had to be told twice. Both of them were smirking with anticipation, and soon they (particularly Amy) were greeted by eager and enthusiastic Capitol citizens.

The party was relatively simple in terms of what happened. They ate, they drank, they danced, and great merriment was had. In terms of aesthetics, it was the grandest thing Amy had ever done in her life, what with the extravagant decorations, light shows, food, beverages, and all of the garish and flambouyant people around them. Luckily, even with all the fans and admirers (The Capitol loved their victors), Clove and Amy were able to get a little bit of time to themselves to talk things over. Clove even went as far as bringing a few glasses of a pinkish liquid with her.

"Is that the stuff I think it is?" Amy raised an eyebrow.

"You bet your sweet sparkly ass it is," Clove smirked, "it's also sort of like a victor's rite of passage. You haven't truly visited the Capitol till you've gorged yourself, hurled it back up, and then gorged yourself again. It's part of their culture."  
"So basically you're saying that there's no way out." Amy's face straightened.

"Oh don't be so melodramatic or I'll spike your drink the moment you turn to say hi to someone," Clove laughed, only to get punched in the shoulder by Amy.

"My own mentor doesn't even know dramatization when it slaps her in the face." Amy shook her head with a chuckle. "give me that."  
A few moments later, Amy's stomach was churning. That liquid didn't agree with her body at all—which meant that it was doing its job rather effectively. A hurried trip to the ladies' room later, and Amy came back out in one piece, heaving a sigh of relief.

"Well…?" Clove raised an eyebrow, wanting to hear how Amy felt about it.

"Well, it's something." Amy shook her head. "Maybe after I'm more addicted to alcohol it will be less hostile on me. I'm not entirely sure—unless you rigged my glass or something."  
"nah, I only gave you a double-shot was all," Clove nodded, "but you handled it well."  
"I know where you live," Amy elbowed her mentor, "I *will* get my revenge."

"Bring it on." Clove cracked her knuckles, before pausing to look around. "Okay, perhaps after Mr. President has a word or two with you."

Amy rose as President Coriolanus Snow approached her. He was as old as the games themselves (actually technically a year older than them), but he still got around just fine. Perhaps there was something to be said about Capitol medical technology.

"Good evening, Ms. Zavala," the president greeted the tiny victor. His tone was as polite and commanding as it had always been, and while she might have been neutral in the districts/Capitol argument, Amy did have considerable respect for the man who commanded the entire nation.

"Good evening, President Snow." Amy responded, looking the man right in the eye. Numb as she might have been, it didn't just end with happiness or sadness. She was also numb to fear or reservation.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." Snow remarked, taking a sip of whatever was in his hand. The rumor was that it was something to drown out the scent of blood, but Amy had never really looked too deeply into it. "The Capitol and I will always repay people with exactly what they deserve. As such, you have been rewarded accordingly. Do enjoy your evening."  
With this, he raised his hand slightly as if to wave them off, before disappearing into the crowds again. Instead of leaving her a little on edge, it had Amy contently smiling as she sat back down. She wondered how victors from other districts felt around Snow—surely the ones from rebellious places like '12, '11, or '8 were not entirely comfortable with his presence, but as a girl from District 2, Amy saw enough of the man's work that she had no qualms at the moment. The rest of the evening went rather swimmingly, and all in all, Amy had a pretty good time. She would definitely not mind returning here next year after she brought home another victor—she was not just saying that after all… she intended to make it a reality. For now though, she was joining her friends on the train as it headed for the final stop—and the one stop that Amy had been contemplating the entire time—her home in District 2…


	40. Chapter 40: The Return to District 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _And thus concludes the thrilling saga of the 92nd Annual Hunger Games. We got to witness Amy Mezkiel Zavala transform from an ambitious little career tribute into a wiser, stoic veteran and a mature young lady,but her story comes to an end for now. We'll see more of her next year for certain, and Ava isn't leaving the scene either (even if she does produce victors). Thank you for all of those who read and enjoyed this story. Those who wish to see if Amy is successful in her ambition to bring home another victor the following year should watch for my upcoming sequel "The 93rd Annual Hunger Games", which will shift the focus a little bit. Otherwise, enjoy Amy's return home, her eulogy for her dearly departed friend and hero, and the bond shared between the numerous victors of District 2. Thank you for reading._

**CHAPTER 40: The Return to District 2**

The next morning, Amy got up and went through the same styling ritual that she had done for the last 13 days (the first day had consisted of her pre-tour outfit, after all, and they arrived in District 1 the following day), complete with the intriguingly silent Misaha and Zakuya, the purple chemical baths, and the dressing up. Her outfit today was a dark red and gold suit that almost seemed to have bricklike patterns laid into it. Clearly this was an obvious reference to masonry, and Amy was fine with it.

She might not have been the mason that Clove was, but she did admire the stoneworkers and their handiwork. The most obvious example of this was the large District 2 Justice Building, where a large statue of Chel Colorado stood proudly. However, there was a new addition to the ranks as well this time. On the opposite side of the stage was a large statue of Marcus Romero, which had Amy nearly beside herself for a moment in awe. She wondered who had made it, for it had not been there when she had left for her tour. On the other hand, it did seem to fit—a large, fearless, cheerful young man and young woman who were known for their Hunger Games heroism. Perhaps they were an embodiment of the district or something like that—or perhaps the statues would get replaced in a few years when the next District Hero came and fit the bill.

Either way, Amy actually did cringe a few times as she made her way to the stage from how loud the cheering was. Naturally her home district would be at its proudest when it produced a victor, and so they were just as excited as anyone to see a new victor join their ranks. Amy did crack half a smile as she saw a large holographic portrait of herself behind her, flanked by Capitol banners with the Capitol seal and the number 92 on them. Above her face was the word "VICTOR" blazing brightly.

However, her face dropped a bit more after seeing Marcus' parents in front of a large holographic image of the boy that she had frankly, kind of been in love with when all was said and done. It had never been the most intimate of relationships, but the two had always had good chemistry. Already Amy felt a single tear slide down her left cheek as she gazed at the gigantic boy's strong but goofy smile. She would never have suspected that such a large and powerful career tribute and trained killer would have such a riotous sense of humor—but that had been Marcus Romero. Nothing ever seemed to break his spirit.

She took a deep breath, sighing right into the microphone for a moment.

"Those of you who saw our reaping," she opened up, "might have thought that Marcus Romero and I would be butting heads from District 2 all the way to the Capitol and into the arena… but that was far from the truth. We jabbed at each other, and we verbally tore each other to shreds… mostly me doing it to him, actually… but in truth, he was the best friend I ever had. Marcus Romero is the Chel Colorado of the 92nd Hunger Games. He was strong, fearless, selfless, friendly, courageous, smart, skilled, and perhaps above all, he was also a rather hilarious guy who could lighten anyone's mood."  
For a moment, she remembered his death: how Monica Savage had ended his life with a swift arrow to the throat. She still bemoaned that fact, although was glad that the kill was swift rather than painful and drawn-out. Monica was no sadist no matter how hard she tried to be. Her kills had all been ruthless and efficient. She had offed Erika Chandni from District 6 with an arrow to the sternum, Charm DeMetz with an arrow to the forehead, Shaft Monroe with an arrow to the back, and Marcus Romero with an arrow to the throat. There was no denying that the girl had been an expert with a bow. For a brief moment, Amy wondered if Moneta was as skilled as her sister was. The two did seem fairly similar.

Either way, Amy's speech for her fallen district partner was long and heartfelt, and was a eulogy that he deserved, and that District 2 deserved to hear. She held nothing back, pouring every ounce of feeling she had left into that speech, and it brought tears to her eyes by the time she had wrapped it up.

She didn't forget about it as the festivities began, but she managed to improve her mood as things kicked off. Coming from a district with so many victors had its perks—she and Clove were joined by Elroy and Enobaria (Clove's old mentors), as well as older veterans like Brutus, Lincoln, Lyme, and Leto. Amy was even fairly certain that she saw some of the more unstable victors, like Katsuo and Kaede, as well as Layla Aranai. However, the primary three victors that Amy dealt with were Clove, Elroy, and Enobaria. All of the rumors that circulated through Panem saying that District 2 partied hard were all true.

"So," Enobaria was the first to speak, "you've completed your rite of passage and are ready to be a mentor now. How does it feel?"

"It just feels," Amy shrugged, "And here I had thought that I'd be putting this buffoon into retirement at long last, but it seems she doesn't want to stop mentoring."  
"I know where you live, kid." Clove warned, elbowing the tinier girl playfully. None of them cared about Amy's age either—they saw her as a victor, and she had earned her colors as well as any of them, and it showed through her (relative) maturity, as well as her victor-like behavior.

"Although," Clove continued, "you're onto something, see? It's come to our attention that so many of us, even here in District 2, suffer from mental trauma on various levels. you've got your nearly static emotions, I've got my batfuck insane ones that need me to be stabbed every few hours or so, Katsuo and Kaede need no explanation, and then you've got these two."  
"Now I've got to know," Amy turned to Enobaria, "there's a story behind your teeth that you're not telling people, isn't there?"  
Enobaria actually gave pause for a brief moment, before she grunted and nodded.

"I saw a bit of myself in that Monica kid from '12," she pointed out, "No one decent ever wins these games, and anyone who thinks that life in the District 2 Victor Village is improving is full of shit. I think you can figure out the rest."  
Even if it was just an elaborate act (which Amy highly doubted) Enobaria's image was a believable one. However, there was a vibe Amy was getting from her that she had never suspected before.

"If you hold such disdain for the 'games, why did you volunteer for them?" the tiny girl looked Enobaria right in the eyes, "it's not like we've got a shortage of volunteers."  
"I did it for the same reason anyone does it," she explained, "because we're bred and raised to do it. They wanted a bloodthirsty killer, and so I provided. Now if only I could give them a taste of their own medicine…" She took a long, hard drink of whatever was in the bottle next to her before slamming it back on the table. "This isn't a revolution, but I can hate whoever I damn well please."

Amy was still neutral on the whole Capitol/rebellion debate, although Enobaria was making a fairly convincing argument. For all that District 2 did for the Capitol, what did they have to show for it? Their victors—the Capitol favorites, and the heroes of Panem—none of them were in very good emotional shape. Many of them were shattered remnants of their former selves such as Layla, Lincoln, Katsuo, and Kaede; some were wild and feral the way Lyme, Clove and Enobaria were, and others were just emotionless and ruthless, much like Leto, Brutus, Elroy, or Amy herself. This was not something Amy had realized until becoming a victor herself. This epiphany showed all over her face.

"Now you're starting to catch on, eh, kid?" Clove raised an eyebrow, and Amy nodded.

"Well, good. Don't go trying to knock down the Capitol tomorrow or anything—this is just something worth thinking about."

And think about it Amy did, even to the end of the party where she bade farewell to Delun, Zakuya, and Misaha for another 6 months, and then followed Clove back to the Victor Village. If the victors of District 2 were not content with the Capitol, who was to say that there were not others who felt similarly? What would that mean for District 2? What would that mean for Amy's Peacekeeper parents, who were undoubtedly staunchly loyal to the Capitol? Perhaps time would tell. Perhaps, while they were skilled at putting on a nice façade, that Panem's most loyal district might not have been as flawlessly devoted to the mighty Capitol as their impression might have led some to believe. The bond between victors was one that was difficult to shatter. They knew the horrors of the arena, and none could share their plight save for other victors. If this discontentment was going to brew a storm, then either way, Amy would be involved. For now, it was simply a matter of setting things into motion—even if they were things that, once going, could not be undone…


	41. Epilogue--Chapter 41: A Welcome Reunion

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _I know that I finished this fic months ago, and that the 40 existing chapters stood well enough by themselves, but I felt that, like its predecessor, it deserved a little afterthought and some smoother transition into its respective sequel. Either way, this was one of the results. Depending on how well-received this story portion is, I would be willing to post as many epilogue chapters as people would like to see. Whatever the case, here's a bit of Amy's life between Hunger Games, including who her parents are, and heck, even a bit of what she looks like. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it._  
_Happy Reading!_

**PART IV: EPILOGUE—LIFE BACK HOME**

**CHAPTER 41: A Welcome Reunion**

Peacekeepers not only had to commit to at least 20 years of service upon becoming an officer, but it also meant a lot of becoming acquainted with another district, which in turn meant much less time being spent at home.

It did not mean they were without holidays of their own though, and shortly after Amy's victory tour, Azhar and Jawna Zavala got to see their daughter in person again, instead of from the sidelines of District 5 during her tour stop there.

Naturally, they were both in awe at Amy's mansion, for not even Peacekeepers got living quarters this luxurious. The only people that had better residences were those of the Capitol itself.

"I missed you two," she smirked as she showed them around the mansion that she basically ruled on her own. Now and again Clove, Elroy, or Enobaria showed up for cards, but for the most part, it was hers and hers alone. "How's District 5?"  
"It's stable there," Azhar shrugged, "but the citizenry is silent and complacent. It's always hard to tell with District 5 though."

"You're always so professional, dad," Amy shook her head, "you and mom should lighten up."  
"How were the games," Jawna asked curiously, "how do you feel now versus then?"  
"Well… I do feel a bit… empty," Amy admitted, sitting down on the edge of a counter. She was still a very small girl after all. "I miss Marcus. He was the best friend a kid could have, really."  
"It's never easy to lose a friend," Jawna consoled, "I wish we could have been there for you, Amy—to see your reaping; to see your victory—to see our little girl all grown up." she put her arms around Amy, who reciprocated the gesture. There was certainly a strong family resemblance among the Zavalas: all of them had the same tan-brown skin and dark brown hair that was nearly black.

"I mean, I feel like I'm stable enough." She admitted, "I'm not taking shots up the arms like Clove, and I'm certainly not like Katsuo or Kaede… I just don't feel anything. I just… haven't really been able to laugh; to cry… I feel almost like Leto."

"Killing is merely part of the game," Azhar reminded her, "it's simply business."  
"I know," Amy nodded, "but even then—these were not sadistic murderers or criminals. These were just kids trying to do the same thing I was trying to do: survive—even that Monica girl from '12."

"People like her are the reason that Peacekeepers exist," Azhar stated, "I can only imagine how she was back in her home district."  
"I disagree," Amy indicated as her parents sat down across from her counter that she was dangling her legs from. Unlike many victors, the arena uniform did not mean anything good or bad to Amy, and so she wore clothing similar to it simply because it was comfortable. "I met her sister during the post-speech feast. She said that Monica was nothing like that before the games. If there's one thing that the games taught me, it's that people will do anything to try and survive it. The same sort of passionate determination that fuelled Monica also fuelled her predecessor Aveline. My stance from my victory speech in District 12 has not changed a bit. I respect my enemies. I do not have to love them, but I acknowledge that they have dreams, desires and ambitions that do not involve personal vendettas against me any more than I desired to harm them."  
"And what of those that wish to tear Panem apart?" Jawna suggested, "What of the rebels in places like 12, 8, and 11?"

"My understanding is that there are good ways to do things, and bad ways. Monica's notion of trying to act like a bloodthirsty monster was not exactly conventional or very effective, but her methods of killing were extremely efficient and effective, and I laud her for them, even if one of them was near and dear to my heart."  
She sighed, briefly thinking of Marcus again, half wishing he could come bursting through the door with a big stupid grin on his face and his massive arms outstretched so he could bear-hug Amy. Alas, nothing came in from the door, and Jawna and Azhar remained where they were.

"So tell me, Amy," Azhar decided to pop an important question, "Now that you've won the Hunger Games… what do you want from life? Panem is a vast, rich locale full of opportunity."  
_"But is it?"_ Amy thought to herself, remembering seeing the way of life in the poorer districts like 10, 11, and 12. Sure things were fine and dandy in District 2, but perhaps Enobaria was right. They didn't really owe anything to the Capitol. Sure they were the hand that fed the districts, but what if the districts were able to feed themselves without exporting it all to the Capitol?  
Amy simply didn't want to get involved in rebellions and other messy issues right now because she felt like she didn't know the full scope of what was going on and where, other than that Peacekeepers on leave from District 12 often talked about how they were "a swarthy bunch of rebels", but what confused Amy about it was that if '12 was so full of rebels, why had nothing been done yet?

"Fair enough," Amy shrugged in response/acknowledgement to her father's remark. "As for what I want… I simply want peace. I may be a trained killer, but I did not do that out of any desire—I simply did it out of necessity. I would readily defend myself from any hostile threat, foreign or domestic."  
"I just hope '11 and '8 stay in line," Jawna shook her head, "there's been reports of trouble from those districts lately."  
"Is that normal?" Amy tilted her head slightly.

"Fortunately, it is," Jawna nodded, "so it's nothing that the Peacekeeper forces deployed there are not used to. I just hope that everyone is alright."  
Amy paused, before nodding. "Aye; me too…"

There was about a week where Amy and her parents were able to spend time together, before their leave period ended and they would be redeployed back to District 5. During this time, they laughed and enjoyed each other's company, reminding Amy that her family was still somewhat functional, but there were also times where Amy felt quietly awkward about the whole political issue that seemed to be floating around. On one hand, there were Districts 2, 5, and 1, that seemed to be the most loyal to the Capitol, and on the other hand, there were districts like 12, 8, 11, and 3 that seemed to be the opposite. Amy felt that Districts 6, 7, 9, and 10 might be able to be pushed towards the Capitol side using fear tactics or something similar, but she couldn't put a finger on District 4 one way or the other. '5 might have been the most mysterious of Panem's districts, but '4 had behavioral patterns that were very difficult to predict.

Such was the advantage of living in a district so full of Peacekeepers—Amy got to hear (and overhear) a bit about life in the other districts. It made her wonder if Lyme, Leto, and Enobaria were really onto something in terms of rebellion. She couldn't see it happening in District 2, but on the other hand, if Panem was going to be split down the middle, Amy naturally wanted to choose the winning side, whichever side that was.

On the other hand, Amy's parents were either oblivious to Amy's thought process, or they simply did not say anything one way or another about it. As the time came for them to take the train back to District 5, Amy was there till the last possible second.

"We're proud of you, Amy," Azhar hugged his little daughter, who, despite her young age and small size, had proven that she was as intellectually and emotionally mature and capable as most adults, "you are a wonderful asset to District 2's victor pool, and will be just as impressive of a mentor."  
"Thanks dad," Amy returned the hug, before her mother came to give her the same treatment.

"We love you, Amy," she smiled sweetly, patting her back once her arms were around the small girl. "And remember—no matter what you did or what you do—we will always love you."

With this, Amy waved goodbye as they and several other peacekeepers boarded a train that would take them to various districts (and a few from other districts that worked in District 2, back to their families for a week or so). After the train pulled out of the station, Amy began walking slowly back to her home, thinking about everything that had happened in the last week.

It was clear that Azhar and Jawna were staunch supporters of the Capitol, but they did not seem rock-headed about it. They did try to promote the notion that Amy should also be pro-Capitol, but did not try to shove it down her throat, and respected her input and opinion when she said she would rather not talk about it. It made her wonder though—if push came to shove, would she and her parents find themselves on opposite ends of the battlefield? Or, would she join them, and find herself facing off against Enobaria, Leto, and Lyme? Clove also seemed to be something of a fence-sitter, but the other three were clearly resolutely anti-Capitol. Enobaria in particular often talked about the idea of a Capitol Hunger Games, using citizens from the government in a death arena just as they had done with children from the districts for nearly a century.

She would need to think about this for a while. It was not like rebellion was on their doorstep and she was faced with the immediate question of what side to take, but she knew, after the time she had spent with her parents, that there would eventually come a time when there would be no more fence-sitting. Soon, something would happen in one of those rebellious districts—most likely '12 or '8, and conflict would escalate. Would District 2 stand with its fellow districts, or against them?

Whatever the case, Amy knew that her time of sitting on the metaphorical fence between loyalty and rebellion had come to a close…


	42. Epilogue--Chapter 42: District 2 Secrets

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _There always seems to be a bit more behind-the-scenes work going on in District 2, which is torn between the large, staunchly loyal majority of the citizenry who supports the Capitol, and the small but vicious minority that stands against them, which includes most of the victors of the 'games, who have seen the horrors the Capitol can unleash. We also get to see a rare glimpse of the elusive Kaede and Katsuo, the mentally unstable victor pair that won the games between Clove's time and Amy's time._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 42: The Secrets of District 2**

Amy was not exactly worried about her upcoming life as a new mentor. She often teased Clove about how she would force the older girl into retirement, but Clove would simply laugh.

"District 2's has two mentors for decades before I came along," she quipped, still feeling rather sedated after another needle to the arm, "you can't get rid of me that easily."  
"You say that like you were born to mentor," Amy elbowed the knife-thrower's arm.

"Maybe I was," Clove retorted, "what's it to ya?"  
"We could always go for some drinks if you wanted, "the tiny girl suggested,

"Amy you're too young to drink." Clove laughed.

"Clove, we've been over this." Amy retorted. "and no, before you ask, you are still no Marcus."  
"And you're no Cato," Clove had the reply on her tongue waiting to strike, it seemed.

"Was Cato a 5-foot-tall assassinating machine?" Amy riposted without hesitation.  
"4'10", Amy;" Clove ruffled Amy's hair. "If anything, you're a lot like Leto."

"Leto's even colder and more distant than I am though," Amy raised an eyebrow.

"Aye, but she's smart," Clove agreed, "and she's like you: small, cunning, stealthy, and ruthless. There's a reason she was called The Terror of the 35th."

"But I'm not Leto," Amy reminded her, "I'm Amy."

"And that's the mentality you ought to have—and one to remind your tributes of. Despite your stellar accomplishments, kid… no one will ever be you. No one will ever be me. No one will ever be the Raiden twins… or Brutus, or Enobaria, or Elroy, or Layla. I feel like too often kids get so entrenched in the Hunger Games spirit that they forget themselves in the process. That's where a lot of the murderous careers come from, I feel."  
"Wasn't that how you were?" Amy asked, more curious than trying to jab at her old mentor.

"For a while, aye," Clove nodded, "my sister managed to help snap me out of that during a visit.  
"Where's she at?" Amy tilted her head curiously.

"She's off Keepin' the Peace in District 12," Clove shrugged, "your folks are in '5, right?"  
"yup," Amy nodded, "where are your folks again?"  
"Drunk off their asses back in the district," Clove grunted; "hell if I'm going to let them drink all my beer. I think they still assume that I died in the 74th Hunger Games…"  
"That's… kind of sad, really." Amy frowned.

"Eh, I've gotten over it. I am not them, and they do not define me. I am Clove Kazera, and I know what I've done. I've got my faults, and I've got my feats. I'm rather proud of myself when all is said and done."

"You've always been arrogant though," Amy elbowed her.

"Why do you think I'm still a mentor," Clove winked. "who better to pass awesome wisdom onto little kids than Clove Kazera?"  
"Clove," Amy elbowed her, "I'M the little kid. Most of our tributes are 17 or 18. I'm barely 15."  
"And that's part of what makes you badass," Clove ruffled Amy's hair, "you were 14 when you won the games. There are only three other kids that can say the same: Alice DeSiete from District 8; Leto Irizari from here in District 2; and Finnick Odair from District 4—victors of the 46th, 35th, and 65th games respectively."  
"And only one kid has ever won the games younger than that, right? Ikki Ortolani, District 3?"

"I actually use her games in some of my mentoring…" Clove pointed out, "I sometimes give lectures at the training academies, which really just consists of me bragging about my accomplishments.

"You really haven't lost your arrogance, have you?" Amy laughed.

"It'll die when I stop mentoring," Clove chortled, "but speaking of the academies, what say you and I pay them a visit—just for fun?"  
"We never need to train there again though," Amy reminded her.

"Well of course not," Clove agreed, "we're just there to watch the promising recruits. Remember—two of those kids will be your tributes next year—and if I recall correctly, you were the one that vowed to bring home another victor next year if you won."  
"I did indeed say that," Amy agreed, "and I'm not going back on that. Not to say that District 2 doesn't have its share of victors already, but I see nothing wrong with us winning again."  
Clove paused. "y'know what, kid… I think we need to pay a couple other someones a visit. Tell me what you know of Katsuo and Kaede Raiden…"  
"All I know was that they were siblings who won back-to-back games, much like Cashmere and Gloss from District 1, or Maius and Iunius from here about 80 years ago." Amy admitted.

"They were the kids who should have been your mentors," Clove indicated, leading Amy out into the large Victor Village courtyard. Given its comparatively large population, the square was very well-maintained, and was aesthetically pleasing to behold. "even if you discount the fact that their games were nearly identical, they're a couple of messed up kids."  
"In what way," Amy followed Clove, now having a shrewd notion that Clove was leading her to see said individuals, "I mean, I've heard they were crazy, but how crazy is crazy?"

"I'm not entirely sure, frankly" Clove admitted, "they will kind of just look at you with vacant stares and sometimes giggle. You'll see what I mean."  
Clove knocked on the door of one of the mansions that Amy had not been to before. She assumed the Raiden siblings shared it, given that she had been to Clove's place, as well as Enobaria's, Elroy's, Brutus', Lincoln's, Lyme's and Leto's. She had not seen the victor Layla's mansion yet, although she suspected there might have been a reason. She, like the Raiden twins, was not all there.

A young man in his late 20s opened the door after Clove knocked. He gave a somewhat wheezy giggle before motioning for the two victors to come inside.

"This, Amy," Clove began, "is Katsuo, victor of the 82nd Hunger Games—a brilliant kid, and one of the most fearless little shits I ever met. The games destroyed him, and a lot of us don't even know why. It was dark, and there were noises, and flashes of light. It was a repeat of the year before, which was a hit, and somehow it managed to be a hit as well."

Clove frowned. "where's your sister?" he asked. Katsuo did not say anything, but skipped away and came back with his sister Kaede in tow.

"And this," Clove introduced the girl who was similarly silent except those wheezy giggles, "is Kaede—victor of the 81st Annual Hunger Games. She's a beautifully talented kid as well, and definitely one of the most audacious. However, like her brother, the games destroyed her too."

Both siblings did smile and shake Amy's hand, although one look into their eyes told Amy all she needed to know—neither one of them would focus on anything. It was half a surprise that they were not blind, but they seemed very alert—just also very aloof.

"Can you speak, or are you two like Misaha and Zakuya?" Amy asked them, and almost immediately Katsuo clutched his forehead and Kaede covered her ears.

"Welcome, Amy, to the reason District 2 victors are discontent with the scheme of things." Clove indicated, "they are still a pair that you would not want to cross in the arena, but look at them—they don't even talk anymore. Our next stop is going to be Layla Aranai, 48th Hunger Games. That kid saw horrors that few others can even say, and she's a wreck."  
"Look at yourself though, Clove," Amy pointed out, "I mean, no offense, but you're not exactly the most stable victor out there either. You've said it yourself"  
"I knew you were observant," Clove smirked, to Amy's slight surprised, "why do you think I've taken a side. Leto's lost feeling, Layla's a mess, Enobaria's all jaded, I'm on drugs, the Raiden twins are demented… and how about you, kid? Do you think you'll survive unscathed?"

"I've probably gotten in the same boat as Leto, admittedly," Amy confessed as they waved goodbye to the Raiden twins. While their eyes were clearly very unfocused, they did both smile and wave back. "After Marcus died… I just stopped feeling much of anything. Most of my friends are just the other victors. That's normal though, isn't it?"  
"It sure is," Clove nodded, "I used to be a lot different, even. I was a lot more sadistic, and had an unhealthy competitive streak. Nowadays, I'm just calm and awesome—as long as they sedate me anyways." She chuckled.

"yeah… I think I remember enough times when that hasn't happened." Amy elbowed her playfully.

"It's the victor life…" Clove sighed somewhat fondly, "It is what it is…"  
as they ambled towards Layla's mansion, Amy couldn't help but think about the plights of her fellow victors and the discontent that it was stirring up among District 2's most popular citizens (assuming the victors were such, at least). She was still slow to want to drop her neutral stance, but she knew that her time of "fence-sitting" was coming to a swift end…


	43. Epilogue--Chapter 43: Fence Jumping

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** _And here we see a little more about a particular enigmatic past victor. The purpose of this chapter, I suppose, is to serve as Amy's final turning point from a fence-sitter into... well, either a full-blown loyalist or a full-blown rebel. Time will tell._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 43: Jumping off the Fence**

True to Clove's word, she and Amy later stopped at the home of Layla Aranai. Amy had done a little research on her over the last few months, and learned that she had lost two sisters to the games, and had been horrifically traumatized by her games due to the wiles of four particular tributes and several different kinds of mutts, but at the same time, she could not help but wonder what could have driven that poor girl so crazy? It reminded her about just how delicate most children were in that phase of their lives, and how no amount of training or tempering could make them immune.

She had her own demons and suffered from her own problems indeed, but she considered herself one of the lucky ones. Sure she was lonely with her parents in District 5 as Peacekeepers, and no real friends outside of the victor's pool (although some of the potential tributes at the academies had caught her eye at least once), but she was still mentally sound and not necessarily very reclusive. That had been the first time, by contrast, that she had ever properly met Katsuo and Kaede, and even by looking at them she could tell that they were a terribly messed up pair of siblings.

"Go away," they heard a woman's voice from inside the mansion as Clove knocked on the door. She kicked it open anyways to find herself inside a rather dimly lit mansion.

"Layla…" Clove called out, "it's just us victors. You can come out…"  
A shaky, middle-aged woman probably around 60 years old appeared from behind one of the large columns. She was a small, thin little thing, definitely looking her age, although she seemed to have more grey hair that most people did. Her hollow eyes and gaunt expression told a lot about her, but at the same time, Amy could see that hers was the body of an old fighter—probably agile, deft, and dexterous.

"What… brings you here…" she asked them, sounding both tired and weak.

"We came here because of the general consensus that there is discontent in District 2," Clove explained, "and that this discontent stems from the victor village, and from people like you."  
"I would gladly go… to the Capitol… and give them a piece of my mind!" Layla asserted, "but I suppose… that's not what you're here to invite me to do."  
"I'm curious," Amy admitted, "what… exactly happened during your games?"

Layla glanced at the tiny girl, and noticed a glint in Amy's eye that reminded her of herself at that age nearly 50 years ago.

"Take a seat…" she told them, "let me get… a drink… and I will tell you… everything."

Layla returned a moment later, sitting across from Clove and Amy, with a bottle of what turned out to just be water. Amy was already considering 'taking a side' at this point, but on the other hand, she wanted to make sure that if there *was* a rebellion, that it was not just the radical actions of a fringe minority. In fine, she wanted to make sure that her stance was plausible and that it was backed by something—even if it was simply a story from a mysterious old victor. Amy's opinions changed as new information was revealed, after all.

"The 48th Hunger Games… that was where the grandson of the old victor Naisha Szasz was—he was my partner that year… I remember this now."

Amy glanced over at Clove, who looked equally serious. As Layla took a drink, she asked the older girl if she knew of any of this story.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Clove admitted, before Layla continued.  
"Other than the arena playing on every tribute's fears with the erratic nighttime patterns, the gator-mutts, and the other unseen horrors that lurked in the shadows and tried maiming us in our sleep, four of the tributes were absolutely scary. There was a boy from '11 named Kamau who literally tore my partner in half near the end of the games. He was a gigantic beast of a man that also ended up killing a kid during the bloodbath by punching his chest in. I haven't seen anything like that since Smash from the 46th games."  
"Pardon my curiosity…" Clove raised an eyebrow, "but… Smash?"

"She was an enormous District 11 girl from two years prior. '11 seems to have a record of producing stacked kids like that. But… I digress."  
Layla took another gulp of water, which seemed to help keep her voice from cracking. "Kamau's partner, a girl named Kana, was equally as scary. What she lacked in size she made up for in frightening strength, and she could wield a hammer like most kids swing knives. She broke a kid's arm with her bare hands once, kind of like Chel did to that Iris kid a couple years ago."

"So who were the other two that were scary?" Amy asked, "I know that the District 11 pair from my games were a bit unnerving with whatever they did with those Night Witch things, but…"  
"Oh goodness, those things *were* quite the fright…" Layla shuddered, "but as scary as District 11 was that year… District 12 was even scarier. The boy, Fenris, was unnerving because he was so erratic. There was no real telling what he would do, or when he would show up. I felt a wave of relief when we finally got him, but his partner…" Layla shuddered, clearly being reminded of some of her traumatic memories.

Amy and Clove went silent to give Layla a chance to recover. No victor liked being reminded of their traumatic memories, but at the same time, if there was anyone they could vent about them to, it was fellow victors, who had undergone similar horrors themselves.

"If there's anything that my games taught me," Amy noted, "it's that District 12 is no laughing matter. Say what you will about their victor's record, but they know things. They're up to something."  
"That girl from District 12 my year was the scariest thing I ever ran into." Layla shuddered again, "she had it out for me, from the day she locked eyes with me on the hovercraft, to the final night where I struck her down. She was mute, but that just made her scarier. She was a master of subterfuge—bombs, grenades, blow-darts, knives… she could have been an assassin for all I know.

"She almost sounds like Monica—cold and ruthless, at least on the outside." Amy pointed out,  
"Oh, I'm fairly certain this kid was a cold heartless war machine through and through." Layla countered, "Zefira Saratoga gave the career pack a hostile reminder about things they don't teach you in the training center—and they're there to help you remember that the Hunger Games are a vile, sadistic practice that can turn a career's adventure into a nightmare in a heartbeat—or at the throw of a knife."

As if to prove her point, Layla flipped on a television, switching moments later to some highlights of her games—the 48th Annual Hunger Games, and the dank, marshy arena that it took place in. Zefira was a little black-skinned girl with wild hair and what appeared to be tribal tattoos up her arms and parts of her legs, given that her pants were pulled up to her knees. What was the most interesting about this girl though was that she worked as a scout for her alliance, but also that she was able to craft all sorts of nefarious gizmos from grenades to smoke bombs. She used these tricks as well as her own stealth and poison darts to strike mortal dread into the hearts of the career pack, which she and her team nearly picked off one by one.

"And this, Amy… is why you've got people like Enobaria and Leto, who are so passionate against the Capitol." Layla explained, "Zefira and Monica were not very different in terms of whom they became—and both of them were District 12 girls who took 2nd place to a District 2 girl victor. Monica might have been putting on a see-through act, but do you see those kids?"  
"Of course," Amy nodded, "and I think I know where this is going."  
"That, Amy Zavala, is what District 12 is about." Layla affirmed, "Those rumors about them being rebels… they are all true, I am fairly certain."  
"You set me up," Amy turned towards Clove as if to accuse her.

"We can't have you sitting on the fence forever, Zavala," Layla quipped, "Just because I am reclusive does not mean that I am oblivious. What happened to Katsuo and Kaede is not what happened to me. When the riots start across Panem… know that I will be among them."  
Amy gave a slow nod. She had not necessarily been supportive of the Capitol, but she had not wanted to take risks one way or another when she felt that staying neutral would be the most advantageous. The Capitol would not have eyes on her, and the rebels would not accuse her of being a loyalist that stood in their way.

"Well," Amy noted, "clearly rebellion is coming then, aye?"  
"Aye," Layla nodded, "District 2 is not by any means ready to join it, but give it time… I'm sure it will happen not only in your lifetime, but probably also in the next decade even."  
"I'm glad I was able to meet you then, Layla Aranai." Amy shook the older woman's hand, "I might be the new kid on the block, but let it not be said that I wish to remain oblivious. I want to know what the rest of my fellow victors know, so that I can stand among them."  
"Can't say I'd argue with that one, kid," Clove chuckled.

"And," Amy added, "If my fellow victors are going to stand against the Capitol… then so will I."


	44. Epilogue--Chapter 44: Sowing the Seeds

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _And here is likely the end of the epilogue of this volume, as we have a slow lead-in to the 93rd Annual Hunger Games. We get to see another little cameo of a certain prominent character or two, and the potential of a relationship for Amy. However, much like the one before it, there is still plenty of development if they decide to go down that road. More than that though... rebellion! Either way, __thanks to everyone who read it all._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 44: Sowing the Seeds**

As the days wore on, and the 93rd Hunger Games began to draw nearer and nearer, Amy's confidence in her position remained firm, and similarly, her confidence in how she would perform as a mentor had not wavered. Every now and again, she would pay a visit to the training academies to check out the potential tributes, and see if any of them caught her eye as promising material. She had made a promise, after all, to bring home another District 2 victor for the 93rd Hunger Games, and that message was one that she intended to live up to, or do everything she could to try and make it happen.

While she often would go with Clove or Enobaria to these academies to observe and find amusement, this particular time, Amy decided to go alone. She, like other victors, was given pretty much free reign of their home district (within reason of course; in District 2 this was not much of a problem), since she lived off of the Capitol stipend and didn't have to work herself.

"Ah, Amy Zavala," one of the academy staff members exclaimed upon seeing Amy enter the building so freely. Much of the facility was a large, indoor training facility highly reminiscent of the one tributes saw in the Capitol, except not quite as modern and state-of-the-art. Still, the facilities that District 2 used were far from shabby, and considering the district's track record with tributes and victors, they were clearly doing plenty right.

"The one and only," Amy quipped in response.

"Are you here to spectate again?" the man asked her—he didn't look much older than 19 or 20.

"I figure that two of these chumps will eventually be under my care, so I might as well take a look at my options." Amy joked. She knew that she did not have an actual choice as to which tributes made it to the stage first, but she could put her hopes on one kid over another.

"I'm not sure I've ever seen you before though," the tiny girl continued, "what's your name?"  
"Kada," the young man replied, "Kada Francisco. My sister and I used to train here religiously—she's still here actually, right over there."  
He pointed to a light-skinned girl with the same long, auburn hair that he had, wielding a couple of training swords with great speed and efficiency. She floored the boy she was training against, and proceeded to also floor the trainer that had been 'fighting' her alongside that boy.

"That kid's good," Amy complimented, "what's her name?"

"Korra," Kada chuckled, "my sister's definitely a bit rock-headed, but don't tell her I said that."

"Korra Francisco…" Amy mused the name in her head for a while, "I want to spar with her—but first, I want to spar with you. Are you down?"  
"Sure," Kada shrugged, as that Korra girl laughed triumphantly, "name your terms."

"Just you and me, right here," Amy indicated, "no shoes, no weapons… although if you have any of those gloves the Capitol's been giving tributes for a while, that might be nice."  
"And hurt if you get slugged in the face," Kada chuckled, "I'll pass."  
"I'm more worried about you," Amy riposted, "you don't need to worry about hitting a little girl. I'm a murderer, in case you don't remember, kid."

Kada was not sure how to react to being called 'kid' by a 14½-year-old girl, but he also respected Amy as a victor, knowing the kid had done things that he would never have to do.

"Let's just keep it friendly for now, huh?" Kada suggested, and surprisingly, Amy nodded.

"I'll try to not get too violent." Amy kicked off her shoes, curling her bare toes and crackling her knuckles. "Wanna pass me the tape?"

It wasn't actually tape, but Kada tossed her a roll of material that she started wrapping around her hands—a commonplace practice among sparring aspiring tributes. She tossed it to Kada once she was done, where the now shoeless boy did the same.

"At your ready," he called, and soon the two of them were striking at each other with their fists and feet. Kada was not a very tall young man, but he was solidly built, with a burly physique that matched his sister's. their little match ended up drawing a small crowd, including Kada's sister Korra, the brown-skinned boy she had been training with, the trainer that Korra had floored a moment ago, and a couple other boys and girls who were intrigued to see how well their newest trainers would fare against their newest victor.

It went on for a few short minutes before the tiny girl managed to knock Kada off his feet and point her fists at his face—a sign of her besting him. A moment later, she offered her hand, helping the larger man up and back onto his feet.

"Nicely done," he complimented her, "I suppose it's not surprising why you did so well in the 'games."  
"oh, there's certainly more than just being able to spar well," Amy noted, shaking Kada's hand, "but it was a good spar—a nice way for me to stay alert, at least for a little."  
In truth, Amy spent most of her free time honing her skills, since she and the other victors did not do a whole lot else apart from interaction with each other, and few people asked about the things they did.

"My pleasure," Kada smiled, "your games and the year before definitely showed Panem not to underestimate a tribute based on size."  
"Celebrate diversity," Amy shrugged, glancing from Kada to his sister, "you would have stood a fighting chance, Kada. I think your sister's got what it takes too. A lot of you do."

Korra beamed at these compliments, and then glanced at Amy as if sizing her up.

"did you want a turn?" Amy offered, trying not to be ruse about it.

"I'm good," Korra declined, "one day though—I'll come home a victor and THEN I'll challenge you." She hopped on her feet as if to pump herself up.

"Believe me, kid," Amy smiled, "I wouldn't complain if you came home a victor—that'd just be another to add to our records."  
Korra seemed to take slightly more offense at being called 'kid' than her older brother ironically, but she didn't say anything. In fact, before much else could be said, the doors of the academy swung open, and there in the doorway with her left foot still in the air from kicking the door open, was Clove.

She was a fairly popular figure here, considering that her still slightly cocky nature was something that many aspiring tributes looked to imitate.

"Clove!" Amy held out her arms, and surprisingly, the larger girl slapped her hands across Amy's back as she wrapped them around Amy's chest in a friendly embrace.

"you drugged up, didn't you?" she whispered into Clove's ear before they let go.

"Course," Clove smirked, "sheesh, I forget one time and that's all you think about."  
"That girl was in the hospital for a week, Clove." Amy reprimanded her mentor.

While Amy had only planned on staying a couple of hours, Clove's presence changed her agenda a little bit, and it was late afternoon by the time they got out of there. Most of the other kids had dispersed or gone home by then, which left Clove and Amy walking down a fairly deserted street. None of the Peacekeepers paid them any attention other than the occasional friendly or respectful salute.

"You know what I've come to realize, Clove?" Amy raised an eyebrow,

"I saw you watching those Francisco kids," Clove quipped, "particularly Kada. Was it that, or your attraction to that boy?"  
"Well that," Amy shrugged, "a girl can have a relationship, you know… but no. Mostly, this is about the whole Capitol thing."  
"this should be good." Clove seemed to be leading them back towards the Victor Village

"With all the Peacekeepers that come and go from here—nearly half of the entire force, I've come to realize that District 2 could become a powerful force in a rebellion."  
Amy thought of people like Layla, Katsuo, and Kaede, whose lives have been ruined and destroyed by the sadistic Hunger Games. She wondered how many others would suffer similarly before it was stopped, and that newfound drive was part of where Amy had taken her stance from.

"About time you caught on," Clove elbowed her, "Enobaria figured that one out years ago. But… why do you think we're so bent on getting District 2 to shake off its chains? See Amy—the problem with a Panem-wide war is that while some less significant districts like '10 or '9 could probably sit it out entirely and watch from the sideline while Panem burns, other districts would inevitably get dragged in. District 2 would be involved without question. Either we'd be fighting our friends from the Capitol's borders, or we'd be fighting the Capitol alongside the rebels. '2 is too key to not get involved in the war. What other districts can say the same?"

"'5." Amy answered, "you want to shut something down—go for their energy source. Also, I would say that '12 will be the one that finally shifts the balance."  
"And if they level '12 before that?" Colve tilted her head.  
"Maybe District 8," Amy shrugged, "But if '12 has people like Katniss, Ava, Monica, or Zefira in their ranks, then something tells me they'll be manipulating the status quo as much as they possibly can to tip the scales in their favor. They're crafty—very crafty. I've seen it myself, and half of us victors have had run-ins with kids from '12."

Clove briefly thought back to her own games, with Peeta Mellark and Primrose Everdeen. Sure, Rue Keniye had been by far the largest thorn in her side, but Clove had to admit that Amy had a point. District 12 had produced a nefariously crafty pair of tributes during Amy's games, and even Prim and Peeta had not been pushovers. Topped off with powerful victors like Katniss Everdeen and her 12-kill record, or cunning little Aveline Togisala from last year, and it was clear that the laughingstock of Panem was certainly no longer District 12.

"A fair point," the older woman chuckled, "I guess opposites really do attract in a way. We're the most loyal district, and they're the most rebellious. If you had asked me 15 years ago about a rebellion, I'd probably have just laughed and spit in your face."  
"I wasn't even alive more than 15 years ago," Amy reminded her, "but you're right. we're very different."  
"Some of those differences are why we fight, you know." Clove indicated.

"Would you be willing to put aside those differences, Clove?" Amy asked her.

"I'm Clove Kazera," Clove smirked as they passed the Victor Village threshold, "of course I am."

It's kind of crazy to think about," Amy glanced up at the sky for a moment, "but all of a sudden I also realize why I want to bring home another victor."  
"You want to make a rebel out of him, don't you?" Clove smirked. "or her, I suppose. I don't think gender will play too big a part, as much as something like, say, personality would."

"Bingo," Amy smirked as they reached Clove's mansion, went inside, and popped open a few drinks as Clove pulled out a pack of cards. "the board is set, and the pieces are in motion."  
"As it should be," Clove raised a glass, "the 93rd Hunger Games will be far more than just games this time. Of that I have no doubt…"  
Amy smirked at Clove's words, nodding in agreement as they drained their glasses. The seeds of rebellion were being sown, and an undertaking was beginning that they knew could not be undone.


	45. Epilogue--Chapter 45: Healing Scars

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**_ I know that I said I was done for reals with chapter 44, but being a sucker for character development the way I am, I felt that this was a nice little addition and a reminder of the losses that victors suffer. I also got to introduce a couple of characters that deserved a bit of screen time given the loss of their child in the 'games, and so there's also that. Otherwise, I feel like the ending in particular was a nice way to wrap things back up, but maybe that's just me. Kudos to anyone still with me so far, and by all means, let me know what you thought of this chapter or the story._  
_Happy Reading!_

**CHAPTER 45: Healing Scars**

Some wounds simply never healed—it was a brutal truth that many Hunger Games victors knew by heart. The pain might ebb away over time, but often times even the scars still hurt when they were touched, almost as if the wound has not ever fully closed.

Roland and Valerie Romero knew these pains well after the loss of their heroic son Marcus in the games. Incidentally, Amy paid them many visits, leaving her mansion in the Victor Village and often heading to their place with a pie or some other baked confections in tow. One of the things Amy had started doing since winning the games was cooking and baking, and while she knew that she could never mend the gaping hole in the heart of Marcus' parents, that she could at least try to console them. After all—she was the only person who was still alive that had witnessed Marcus' death, and in truth, even months later, Amy still missed him sorely.

Amy was lonely. On one hand, Clove, Enobaria, and a few of the other victors made for good company sometimes, but at the same time, the emotions that Amy sought so desperately after were often just not there. That had been one of her biggest trials in the games. To be able to laugh and cry so passionately as some did—Amy longed for that feeling again. There were times when she would in fact cry herself to sleep or even laugh really hard at some quip or gag Clove did or whatnot, but these episodes were often painfully short-lived for whatever reason. Despite being surrounded by friends, as well as her parents, both of whom were alive and well, Amy felt lonely and bereft. The fact that her parents spent most weeks out of the year working in District 5 as peacekeepers didn't help her situation, and so she often found comfort with the Romeros.

Even District 2 had a part of the district set apart to remember the fallen tributes of their games. Even with their large victor's pool, there were still 170 stones and markers symbolizing all of the boys and girls that had not emerged as victors—boys and girls that had likely been taught all their life that the greatest achievement they could ever perform was volunteering for and then winning these sadistic Hunger Games. Amy looked back at that past mistake with a great deal of regret.

When she wasn't with the Romeros, she was often at the training academies talking to Kada; the Victor Village with her fellow victors, or at the District 2 Memorial division, at the graves of some of the old District Heroes. Today she was at the latter of these locales. To her slight surprise, Clove was already there, in front of a marker that she was almost certain belonged to Cato.

"Welcome back," she turned her head, before bending back down towards Cato's grave, "you here to pay respects to your old battle-buddies?"

"Yup," Amy grunted, noticing that in the brief moment Clove had faced her, that the older victor's freckled face was rather pink. "I take it you're here for Cato?"  
"Who else?" Clove sighed, "He was my Marcus, pretty much—not quite as goofy, but still a reliable friend when all was said and done."  
"Well, you did build monuments of Marcus and Chel that now stand outside the Justice Building," Amy reminded her, "your masonry is top-notch."

"I wanna know how you do it, kid." Clove shook her head, "how do you stay so firm? You're as stoic as the kids before the games."  
"Do I really come off that way?" Amy tilted her head.

"Well, you do to this mentally deranged woman here," Clove quipped. "I'm sure as hell not saying I'm weak or anything, but I've come to accept my mental instability. You on the other hand, just cross your arms and purse your lips and observe. That takes guts, kid."

"If only it was that easy…" Amy sighed, stepping over to Clove and kneeling next to her, "I'm far from unaffected by the games, Clove."  
"Oh, I know that much," Clove admitted to Amy's surprise, "just that it seems like out of all of the emotional issues a victor could have, rigid stability would seem higher up there."  
"Except it's not," Amy frowned, "Ever since that night in the arena, I've wished that I could laugh or cry the way the rest of you do. It just doesn't make sense to me, Clove. What's wrong with me?"  
"A lot of this shit doesn't make sense," Clove shook her head, "It's not about what wrong with you, Amy. It's about what happened to you. Marcus was a jovial guy as anyone who knew the man understood. Chel the year before was the same way. I don't think anyone here was as close of friends to him as you were, or like Ava was to Chel the year before. You weren't the only one aware of the relationship the two of you made."  
"I loved him." Amy sighed. "And I'd give anything to have him back in my life."

Clove sighed. "would it that it was that easy, huh?" she mumbled.

Tears began congregating in Amy's eyes, and she turned to Clove. "No matter what happens… let me cry, alright?" she begged, "I need to…" she trailed off, gripping Clove's waist as she began to cry. It was a strange feeling—one that she had not felt at all during her games, or even afterwards. It was different, and it hurt in all the right ways. It was like taking a nasty old bandage off of a dirty old wound and finally cleaning it off. She knew that this was not some sort of magical universal cure-all, but it was a refreshing 5-7 minutes of being able to let her trapped emotions out. She only wished that she could do this more often, and perhaps be able to laugh a few times too.

"Thanks, Clove…" she sighed. "I owe you one."

"Pfft," Clove snorted, "you're the kid who keeps me on my rails. If anything, this is just payback for all the times I owe you. Don't worry about it too much, Amy. There's no reason to keep track or anything."

"Still…" Amy wiped a few stray tears from her cheek, "thanks."

"Any time," Clove shook her head, ruffling Amy's hair. Clove remained at Cato's grave for a while as Amy went back to glance at the two that were next to each other from the years before.  
"Marcus Romero, 92nd Hunger Games", and "Chel Colorado, 91st Hunger Games" were the inscriptions that greeted her (followed by "Chaco Haden, 91st Hunger Games, leading back into the 90th, 89th, and so on), and she sighed.

"I miss you, you great stupid oaf…" Amy sighed, reaching her hand out as she laid flowers down at the gravesites. "I wish you were here."  
A few moments later, she got back up and noticed that her old mentor had done the same, which in turn prompted them to return home. Clove followed Amy back to the Victor Village, where the two parted ways at their respective houses.

Once Amy was alone again, she knew what she needed to do. She raced for her kitchen and began throwing ingredients together in a large bowl before firing up her oven. She was going to make cookies.

As odd as this might have sounded, it was one of a few ways Amy expressed her gratitude to the Romero family for the time she had been able to spend with their son in the games and the academies. She didn't feel like any of it was her fault, for she had not been forced to kill Marcus, and frankly, Monica's arrow could have very well been aimed at her instead. She certainly knew that Monica wouldn't have been able to drag someone as huge as Marcus towards the electric maze walls as easily as someone tiny like Amy.

Given her (seemingly, at least) good standing with the Capitol, Amy was actually fairly well-liked by the Peacekeepers in the district, who were actually fairly friendly in a loyal district like '2. One of them even stopped Amy as they saw her walking to offer her a ride.

"Back to the Romeros, are you?" he asked. Amy simply nodded, mentally noting that some of her actions were so habitual that others became aware of them. On the other hand, it was not like she had very much of anything to hide.

A quick ride later, and she was knocking on their front door. Their home was not nearly as large as the Victors' Mansions, but it was still a fairly sizeable abode nonetheless.

Perhaps it was an attempt to make up for the child they lost, but given the repeated (albeit necessary) absences of Amy's parents, and the absence of Roland and Valerie's son thanks to the games, the three of them almost had a little family setup going.

The trio got to talking about various subject, with Amy listening to them reminisce about Marcus, and Amy telling them about what an amazing friend he had been. It was difficult, but assuring, to have conversations like this. On one hand, his death was something that admittedly none of them would have wanted, but at the same time, the Romeros knew that the girl they were talking to would be dead if their son had returned home, which in turn slightly conflicted them, especially with the attachment they now had with the tiny brown-skinned girl.

On the other hand, they were a nice reminder of a simple but powerful truth that Amy had watched in Chel Colorado's games the year before her own. It was better to think back on all the good memories a person made in their life than to dwell miserably on their death. Amy actually cracked a smile as she thought about Marcus' witty quips and how he could make a joke out of anything. While she was on this mood high, Valerie actually told a string of jokes and tricks that Marcus had slung when he was Amy's age, which, to Amy's utmost surprised, caused her to actually erupt into a fit of laughter.

"Damn!" she shook her head, "he actually said and did that?" she could picture Marcus doing those things with utmost ease, and even the thought nearly put the tiny girl into conniptions.

"That… oh my gosh, thank you so much…" tears were all but flowing down Amy's face again, except that these were mirthful tears. It was almost as if the fates had decided that today was her day of overcoming her emotional barriers. She did not think that this was a permanent change, and knew full well that this was not a cure for her scars, but it was a nice, painkilling sense of relief that came over her, and one that she cherished.

"I owe you a pie next time," she smiled as she prepared to leave a few minutes later after the mirthful conversation had died down. "Don't let me forget…"

For one of the first times in a long time, a smile appeared on Amy's face that was not just a smirk or a sarcastic expression. She knew that it might have been short-lived, but it still felt rather nice to be able to laugh and cry at least for a moment.

Sure enough, by the time she had reached her next destination—the training academy—her face had straightened again. Her mood was still high; she just wasn't laughing and smiling like she had been before. The man she was looking for here—Kada Francisco, was not quick to notice the difference in Amy's demeanor, however.

"Someone's happy," he smirked. He was just getting off for the day it seemed.

"Today was a good day, Kada." She explained, "I laughed, I cried… I got to feel emotions again. I know that doesn't sound like much, but to me—to someone who has been bereft of such feelings for months now? It felt euphoric. It felt amazing. I would give anything to feel like that again more often."

"I'm not going to lie and say I know the machinations of your mind as well as I'd like Amy…" Kada sighed, "but I do owe you a thanks for at least giving me a chance to learn."  
"There's not much to teach other than what I've already told ya," Amy shrugged. "still… just… thank you for being here."  
It seemed small and meaningless for them to just walk up to each other like that, but really, a soft embrace and a few comforting words could go a long way with traumatized victors. Kada ran his hands through Amy's hair, holding the tiny girl close, and silently reminding her that she was not in fact crazy. She had her demons and her problems, and the games had obviously knocked her down a bit—just like they did to anyone who survived them—but perhaps most importantly of all was that despite all of that, Amy Mezkiel Zavala was not broken—nor would she allow herself to be.


End file.
